


We Used To Be Friends

by trancer



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Magical, Bisexual Female Character, Bisexual Female Character of Color, Established Relationship, F/F, Femslash, Married Couple, Recreational Drug Use, Teen Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-22
Updated: 2014-12-22
Packaged: 2018-03-02 21:25:55
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,109
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2826656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/trancer/pseuds/trancer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/2745089">"You Used To Be My Romeo"</a>. All Emma wants is to make good on her promise - take her wife out on a date. But, policing a small town is supposed to be easy, just rowdy and rebellious teenagers and adults squabbling at City Councils. Not open wounds that refuse to heal, a laundry list of questions with no answers. Not an unsolved murder that could threaten the only two things in the world Emma cares about, her wife and their son. (Emma-centric; trigger warnings for references to: racial slurs, casual/hard drug use, bullying)</p>
            </blockquote>





	We Used To Be Friends

Regina Mills was twelve years old the first time she met Emma Swan. Yes, they went to the same school (there was only one school in Storybrooke). Maybe they passed each other in the halls, or on the playground, but Emma was ten. So, they never shared the same class. Though they'd never met, they were aware of each other. Everyone knew the kid that was the Sheriff's daughter. Everyone knew the kid that was the Mayor's daughter, the daughter of Senator Mills.

Years before Regina was born, Henry Mills had served as Senator for the State of Maine. Until the day the Principal came into Regina's classroom and told her she had to go, someone would be picking her up and taking her to the hospital in Bangor.

She stood before the vending machine, hand over her stomach to quell the hard rumbling. Lower lip indecisively chewed between her teeth. Mother didn't like Regina eating junk food. But, Mother was in the Waiting Room, anxiously waiting for some word from the Doctors along with all the other people that were family or friends.

"They have a cafeteria, you know."

Regina lifted her eyes to stare at the reflection in the glass. A face she recognized but didn't know, green eyes and blonde hair. She turned to face the girl properly. "Pardon me?"

"Wow. You're, like, really polite," the girl wrinkled her nose, looking past Regina as she stuck a hand in her pocket and pulled out some change. "There's a cafeteria, with real food. It's not very good. Except for, maybe, the jello."

Regina stepped to the side, watched the strange girl as she put her change in the machine. She was odd in her scuffed Chuck Taylors, jeans with a hole on one knee. All while she wore a jacket several sizes too large, Storybrooke PD stenciled across a breast pocket.

"Plain or peanut?" the girl asked.

"What?"

"M&M's,” the girl explained. “You know, melts in your mouth, not in your hands."

With a sheepish smile, suddenly nervous hand tucking a lock of her hair behind an ear, Regina darted her eyes. "I've never had M&M's before."

The girl froze, eyes going wide. "Seriously?"

Regina felt her cheeks warming. "My Mother doesn't like me eating that stuff. It's no reason to be rude."

"Peanut it is." She pressed the buttons, the coil unwinding and a bag falling to the bottom of the machine. Opening it, she poured a couple pieces into her palm, extending it towards Regina.

"Thank you." Regina tentatively took a few, placing them into her mouth. Her eyes went wide at the taste, a glorious sin to her unsoiled tongue.

"Good, huh?" she smiled, all toothy and pleased with herself. "Name's Emma."

"Regina."

"You're the Mayor's kid, right?” Emma said, slight cant of the head. Hospitals were boring. “I've seen you around today. What’re you here for?"

"My father," Regina slowed her chewing, the taste going bitter on her tongue. "He had a stroke."

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"What are you here for?"

"My Mom," Emma looked down at her foot, toe scuffing the floor. "She lost her baby."

"I'm sorry."

Then, Emma's head snapped up, eyes bright with excitement. "Did you know there's a swimming pool on the roof?"

"What?"

There was no time to argue, just Emma's hand clasping around Regina's. The two giggling as they ran through the corridors, into the stairwell and up the stairs.

**

There was no swimming pool on the roof, just a clear sky, the stars twinkling through Bangor's night pollution. They sat, backs to a wall, eating junk food and drinking sodas, talking about everything and nothing. Until hours later, when the orderly found them fast asleep, leaning against each other under the over-sized jacket.

**

"No wonder both your mothers date women," Zelena scoffed into her ice cream. "The pool of dateable men in this town is shallower than a gossip columnist during fashion week." She side-eyed her companion. Henry merely licked his ice cream, eyes blankly staring forward. With narrowing eyes and tightening lips, Zelena turned on the park bench. "Okay kid, that's some of my best material and not even a chuckle. Your parents might fall for that sullen teenager shit, but not me. What's going on?"

For that, Zelena received the slightest of smiles. She reached out, brushing some of the stray strands on his forehead. Henry had just turned twelve, going on eighty, with a familiar wanderlust in his eyes. Zelena couldn't understand why his mother's kept him in this shitty little town with all its small town dramas, and seemingly endless list of tragedies. "This is about your parents, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he nodded, "they're getting back together."

"That's a problem?” she asked, puzzled. “I thought you'd be ecstatic?"

His lips pursed tight, brows knitting. It amazed Zelena sometimes, the subtle ways in which Henry looked like Regina. The way he sometimes carried the weight of the world on his shoulders. "Henry?"

"What's the fucking point!?!" He snapped, ten months of pent-up anger and resentment with no outlet, no release. And Henry exploded. He jerked up from his seat, angrily tossing his ice cream into the air and over the pier. "Why? When she's just going to screw up again!" He turned, face twisted with rage and fury. "That's what she does! She screws up!"

He stomped towards the railing, anger deflating as he placed his elbows on the metal, forehead resting on his hands. Head filled with memories of lying on his bed, earbuds cranked to eleven trying not to listen to his parents fighting downstairs. A duffel bag filled with his things as he went to stay with his grandparents. His mother, Regina, red-eyed and sniffling, trying her best to pretend she hadn't been crying. His other mother, Emma, fireman carried into his grand parents house by his grandfather, all drunk and bleary-eyed.

He hated it. He hated *her*, for shifting, uprooting the foundation of everything he knew and loved. Just when things were starting to settle, just when Henry was starting to get used to this new normal, Emma shifted everything again.

"Henry," Zelena sighed, resting a hand on his shoulder. She wasn't raised in Storybrooke. Just knew, with the way this town loved to gossip, the stories of Emma Swan's youthful indiscretions had probably started to filter into Henry's ears. Half of them, he'd probably learned from Cora. Zelena had to admit she held her own resentments towards Emma Swan, and the way she'd hurt Regina, but Henry was family. It was in the way her sister's face lit up, the way that smile was returned, whenever Regina was in the boy's orbit, long before she and Emma became a couple. Regina had been there when Henry was born, somehow, someway, the two imprinted on each other. Somehow, someway, that brought Emma into the fold. Emma was family. And there'd been enough animosity through the years between the Mills and the Whites. No need for Zelena to stoke the flames, not when her nephew was the one being burned.

Regina was Zelena's sister, which made Zelena Henry's aunt. One of the few responsibilities in her life Zelena took seriously. "While Emma and I will never become anything resembling best friends.." she paused, Henry lifting his head, gazing at her like she held all the hope in the world. "Your father's death hit her pretty hard."

"I barely knew him." He shook his head, thinking back to the time a man named Neal Cassidy appeared in Storybrooke, and all the drama that followed. A reaction to an offhand comment was how Henry found out he had a father. Not that Henry cared, he already had parents. But, he'd felt the way things spiraled after that. When the fighting between his mothers started. "And he dumped her, left her in prison."

"Yes," Zelena quelled her sneer, thinking of how that bit of gossip would have spread like wildfire upon Neal's return. "Regardless, there was a time when they loved each other very deeply. Neal's death? I do know it hit your mother pretty hard. Sometimes, when bad things happen, things that are out of our control, we have a tendency to take it out on the one's who are closest to us."

"It wasn't her fault." Henry didn't understand, looking up at Zelena like he'd never be able to understand. Twelve going on eighty and still just a child. "It wasn't Ma's fault."

"My observations of your mother?” Her brows lifted. Emma was a Regina thing, and Zelena didn't spend too much time dwelling on her. Particularly after the breakup, when all Zelena wanted to do was grab Emma and shake some damn sense back into her. “Emma's natural instinct is to fix things. Neal's death, and all the unhappiness afterwards, was something she couldn't fix. When things become to much because of something she can't fix, Emma has a tendency to run. Except now, she's in a position where running's no longer an option."

He looked all pensive, sorting through the thoughts firing around in his brain. "So, she took it out on Mom?"

"She took it out on Regina, yes." She reached out, fingertips to Henry's chin. "Don't be too hard on her. If there's one other thing I know about Emma Swan, she's in love with Regina. And my sister is absolutely over the moon for Emma. They're gonna work this out. Just give them a little time, okay? Wow.." Zelena blinked, astounded. "That was really, really insightful. Almost therapeutic. Do you feel better?"

A hint of a smile. "Yeah, a little."

"Do you think it would be bad form if I charged your parents for this little bit of auntly advice?” Zelena beamed. Maybe she could actually do this whole parenting thing. “Or just for the very expensive and definitely delicious ice cream you just fed to the fish?"

"Well.." His lips stretched fully, his impish grin all Emma's side of the family. "If you're gonna charge, we should probably get some more first."

**

"Hey."

Regina lifted her eyes from her desk. Emma stood in the doorway of the Mayor's office, hands in her back pockets, that sheepish, hangdog expression on her face.

"Hey," Regina answered back.

"Is it okay.." Emma entered just enough to close the door behind her. "If we talk?"

Watching Emma cross the floor, Regina felt a tickling sensation on the back of her neck, not enough to cause the hairs to stand on edge, just enough to give her concern. "Emma?"

"I want Henry to move back in with you," she paused, swallowing hard. "Permanently."

Surprised and concerned, Regina didn't say a word. She'd learned long ago, conversation with Emma Swan wasn't something one coaxed out but a matter of playing a waiting game. Regina pulled the glasses off her nose, arms folding politely on the surface of her desk. Emma slumped down in the chair opposite Regina, knees splayed open, elbow on the armrest as she leaned, thumbnail running back and forth over her lips. Eyes blank and distant, yet Regina could still see the hurt bubbling underneath it all.

"You remember when Henry broke his arm?" she asked, like Regina had forgotten. "That piercing shriek coming from outside Granny's. All I could do was panic. The town screwup strikes again. Henry was in my arm's, just howling in pain. And then you.." she lifted her head, gazing in wonderment as she blinked at the welling tears, "you just put your hand to his cheek, told him everything was going to be fine and he stopped crying. Just like that, Henry stopped crying." Emma shook her head. All these years later and she still couldn't believe. "That's when I knew. The moment I knew I was going to marry you."

"Emma," Regina chuckled, brows crinkling at the admission. "I'd only been back in Storybrooke for a week."

"Yeah, but I'd been in love with you for, like, forever. You always had a way of making me feel better. If you could do that for my son.. I wasn't going to let him live without that."

This time, the narrowing of Regina's eyes was cautious, suspicious, Emma finally getting around to the heart of the conversation. One that revolved around their son.

"Your sister called me. She talked to Henry today," Emma swallowed, the slight tremble in her fingers as she brought them to her lips. The memory of Henry, not even five years old and a cast on his arm, the way his face lit up whenever Regina entered the room. The way Regina returned his smile. Never fall in love with someone who doesn't love your child as much as you do, Emma had always heard. From that first moment, there was no doubt how much Regina loved Henry.

Emma slumped forward, elbows on her knees, burying her face in her hands. "I hurt him, Regina. I hurt our son."

She wouldn't cry anymore, Emma had sworn. But, it was getting harder now, as she saw the depths of her actions. A family not just broken but battered and bruised, still bleeding all this time later. Because of Emma.

Regina rose, quickly circling the desk. A comforting hand to Emma's shoulder, another on the back of her head, Emma leaning, forehead pressing to Regina's stomach. A moment, then Emma's arms were wrapping, clinging to Regina as the tears began to flow, sobs wracking her chest. The years melting away, and they're just two lonely and scared teenaged girls finding safe harbor with each other. 

"You're not a bad mother, Emma," Regina spoke softly, fingers threading gently over the back of Emma's head. "He's going to be fine. You don't have two parents as stubborn as you or I and not have a bit of a defiant streak." She moved her hands, shifting until they touched the sides of Emma's face, tilting her up so their eyes could meet. "We should call Archie. Set up an appointment for all three of us. Now," she reached across her desk, yanking several tissues from the box and handing them to Emma, "clean yourself up."

Emma chuckled, taking the offered tissues and slumping back in her seat. Regina circling back around her desk as the phone rang, as it had a tendency to do in the Mayor's Office. Emma leaned on her hand, watching her wife. Amazed at the woman who loved her, for reasons Emma still hadn't quite figured out.

Regina set down the phone, hand pressing to her forehead as she took a long, deep inhale. "That was Zelena. Mother wants to meet us for lunch. Zelena won't go unless I do."

Zelena. Regina was twenty, living the life of a college student. She opened her door one day to a woman with red hair and sad blue eyes, a woman claiming to be her sister. Regina politically savvy enough to know a simple DNA test would end the charade before involving her parents. Then, the results came in. Regina had a sister. They've been best friends ever since. Their combined forces still not enough against the force of nature that was one Cora Mills.

"I'm sorry," Emma smiled in sympathy. She had her own parental issues, long shadows she still couldn't escape.

Regina extended her hand, wiggling her fingers. "Kiss me. Make it all better."

Emma practically leapt from the chair, making it to Regina in one quick stride. With hands reaching, gently clasping Regina's cheeks, Regina already melting. The kiss soft, slow and gentle. "Better?"

"I don't know," Regina grinned. "Maybe one more. Just to be sure."

The next one not so slow, not so soft, making up for all those months of separation. One hand sliding into Emma's back pocket as the other wormed its way under her shirt, up her back. The parting of lips, the flick of a tongue, moan rumbling up Emma's throat as the fingers in her back began to urgently dig in. "Madame Mayor.." Emma panted, forehead rubbing against Regina's temple. "I thought we were taking this slow."

"The Mayor and the Sheriff?" Regina purred, fingertips gliding down Emma's back, finding the line of her jeans. "It wouldn't be our first scandal, or the first time in this office."

"Regina," Emma exhaled her chuckle, "I'm serious."

"So am I." She pulled them closer, nuzzling against Emma's neck. "I missed this. Being in your arms."

Not meant to be a jab, but Emma felt the stab of pain. Because, she'd missed this, too. That piece of her that fit so well, the one turned to an aching chasm, the empty chair at the table, the cold spot on the bed. Emma screwed up, screwed up bad. She had no intention of letting history repeat itself. She kissed Regina's temple. "Yeah, me too. But, I meant it when I said we should start over. Besides, I still owe you a date."

**

Regina Mills has her first black eye. She's fourteen, and she has her first black eye.

They were all sitting in the Sheriff's office. Emma, all ball of pent up fury, sat next to Regina, who was holding an ice pack to her face. Across from them sat Albert 'Junior' Spencer. He was thirteen and the son of the District Attorney, which he used like a bat to bully those around him.

His father, Albert Spencer, who was all red-faced with self righteous fury, stood before the Sheriff.

"Don't think you're going to wiggle her out of this one, Sheriff!" Albert growled. "That daughter of yours is a delinquent. It's about time someone started treating her like one!"

"Whoa, hold on!" David's arms were already folded across his chest, stance wide and firm. "We still don't know the whole story."

"The whole story," Albert waved a dismissive hand. "Which you'll bury to protect your precious princess!"

And then, the Mayor arrived. Which they all knew because the temperature in the entire building suddenly dropped. Regina straightened in her seat, stomach tensing into a giant knot.

Cora Mills didn't bother with knocking, just entered David's office, and the air went down a couple more degrees. Her eyes first went to her daughter, Regina instantly bowing her head, anything to keep from looking at her mother. Cora turned her attentions to David. "Why isn't my daughter receiving proper medical attention?"

Arthur scoffed, "Because competency isn't a job requirement in this town."

Cora narrowed her eyes. "And yet, you gave your full support in the last election."

"Knock it off, you two," David growled. Three adults suddenly back in high school. "Unless you'd both like for this to hit the papers." He might have been just a Sheriff but David Nolan could play politics when necessary.

"I have no problem with that," snakeoil smile spreading across his lips, Arthur returned his gaze to Cora. "Admittedly, your daughter starting a brawl might not go over so well for the Senator."

Cora bristled. "I seriously doubt that."

David shifted on his feet. "She threw the first punch, Cora."

Cora's gaze turned to her daughter. Regina's eyes still lowered, staring at the fist resting on her knee, the knuckles gone white. "Regina?"

Regina began trembling, tear rolling down her cheek. Maybe going to jail wasn't such a bad thing. At least then she wouldn't have to go home with her mother.

"Regina?"

Emma jerked up and out of her seat. The entire town might have been afraid of Cora Mills. Emma Swan wasn't afraid of anything. She jumped up from her seat, looking the Mayor dead in the eye. "He called her a 'fucking 'spic'!"

The room went dead silent, the temperature dropping to that of a meat locker.

"Regina," Cora spoke softly, sternly, "is this true?"

A sniffle, Regina hurriedly bobbing head. Cora's eyes darted to the boy sitting at the far end of the room. Junior paled, shrinking within himself like he just realized the limits of his father's aegis. Cora turned to his father. An eternal game of chess and, because of his son, he'd just lost several huge moves. "Still want this in the papers, Arthur?" Cora extended her arm, hand offered to her daughter. "Come, Regina. Let's get you some proper medical attention. Maybe some ice cream, afterwards."

**

So far, it hadn't been the worst meeting of the 'Mills Women'. Zelena had opted for the 'liquid lunch', working her way through her second Bloody Mary. Regina, taking after her mother, had chosen the ever ubiquitous salad.

"I heard some interesting news the other day," Cora took a bite of her salad, chewing for dramatic affect. "Strange that I would hear my daughter's unemployed by manner of hair salon gossip."

Zelena swallowed hard, eyes wide and gaping at her mother over the lip of her cocktail. "Actually, it's not that big of a deal.."

"Your show was cancelled, sweetheart.” A bite of cucumber, jaw flexing as she chewed. “I also heard the restaurant that was part of the show has closed. Hence, your current state of unemployment."

Heart hammering in her chest, Zelena blurted, "Regina dumped Robin and is back together with Emma."

"Zelena!" Regina gawked, fork dropping, clinking loudly on her plate. "Seriously?"

Zelena shrugged.

"It's okay," Cora continued as if the little display between the sisters hadn't occurred. "I've long ago accepted that your sister and that Sheriff are an inevitability. Although," she turned her gaze to Regina, "I hope you won't be offended when I place my support behind Locksley should he run for Sheriff next year. Now.." she turned back to her other daughter, "Zelena."

"Wait," Regina cut in, clawed hands hovering close to her face on the off chance her head actually exploded. "Emma and I are an inevitability? Since when?"

The arch of an eyebrow, her look one-hundred percent pure Cora Mills. "Before or after she ruined my roses climbing into your bedroom? No," a soft roll of the eyes, pausing to take an overly dramatic sip of water, "I might not like Emma Swan and her laundry list of flaws that I'm certain are genetic, and thankful she didn't pass on to my grandson.."

"Mother!" Regina snapped.

Cora raised an uncharacteristically conciliatory hand, so unlike Cora to concern herself with the feelings of others. "The Sheriff might have her list of flaws. But, there is one thing about her that has always been constant.." Cora Mills always had one look when discussing Emma, polite disdain. For the first time Regina could remember, Cora spoke of Emma, and when she spoke, the look in her eyes was one of respect, "Emma has always protected you. And she would rather die than see harm come to you or my grandson. She might fail to fulfill all the other hopes and dreams I've had for you, she doesn't fail that."

Stunned, Regina turned to Zelena. "You're recording this, right?"

"Sorry," wide-eyed, Zelena could only shake her head, "I was searching the skies for flying monkeys."

"Stop being so dramatic," Cora rolled her eyes. She picked up her cutlery, began slicing a tomatoe. "I didn't come here to discuss the hold that girl has always held on your heart, Regina. If a man like Robin Locksley can't pry it free, what more can I do? Now, Zelena?" Who promptly picked up her Bloody Mary and drained the glass. "What are your plans now that you're no longer employed?"

"Truth be told.." Zelena ran a finger around the rim of her glass, the flair for the dramatic a genetic trait. "I've been thinking of buying a house."

"You already own three?" Regina scoffed, despite having used Zelena's property in the Caicos repeatedly since discovering her sister owned property there. "Why do you need another?"

"Actually," her smile coy, almost nervous, "I was thinking of buying one here. In Storybrooke."

"Zelena," Regina gasped, already smiling.

"That's wonderful, sweetheart," Cora said. Then, she did something neither of her daughters expected, she reached her hand across the table, clasping it around Zelena's.

"It is?" They said in unison.

"Of course, it is." Cora released her hand, sliding it back across the table. Where she started searching through the insides of her purse. "You two have been two peas in a pod since the day you met. If I have one regret in this life, it's that I didn't raise the both of you together. Ah! Here it is." She pulled out a business card for a real estate agent, looking up to see both her daughters staring, wide-eyed and dazed, back at her. "What?"

**

Regina and Zelena stood close to each other next to Regina's car. Zelena's hand holding Regina's elbow, the two women watching their mother's limo make its way out of the country club parking lot.

"You have about twenty years on me with her," Zelena nudged her sister. "That was weird, right?"

"Oh," Regina lifted her brows, "she's definitely up to something."

The arch of an eyebrow, the continuing debate as to which one looked more like their mother. "Good something or bad something?"

"She's our mother. Of course, it's bad. Hey," Regina gave a nudge. "Were you serious back there? About moving to Storybrooke?"

"Yes.” An accidental discovery after the death of her parents, discovering she was adopted. Zelena relentless in her pursuit of the truth. Her relationship with Regina had been prickly in the beginning, the two defensive in their own ways. Zelena might have cracked open that door, alone and desperate for family, it was Regina who'd thrown it wide open, desperate and lonely in her own way. Now, Zelena couldn't imagine a life without her sister by her side. “Don't get me wrong, I love my job. But, it's just that, a job. I'm a chef, I can cook anywhere. Storybrooke might not be my home,” she inhaled deeply, leaning a little closer against Regina. “You're my family. You, Henry, that idiot wife of yours."

"That's..” brows scrunching, Regina chuckled, “so incredibly heartwarming. Remind me to put it on this year's Christmas cards."

Zelena chuckled, the two descending into a comfortable quiet. "Can I ask you a question? Why have you forgiven her, Emma?"

"I hate saying it, but I think our mother's right.” Face lifting, eyes staring blankly into space, the endless internal conversations she'd had with herself, shared with her therapist. “Emma and I have always been something of an inevitability. You were there after I lost Daniel. I was so lost, devastated and angry, lashing out at the world. When Neal died. I understood that pain of hers. I mean, no, I have no doubt they wouldn't have gotten back together had he lived. But, she'd loved him, even after everything he'd done to her, she still loved him. To lose him like she did.."

"Like she did?” Zelena stiffened. She was in Storybrooke the day Neal had his accident, an unsteady ladder, a room filled with paint fumes. “I thought it was an accident? Regina? Oh my God, Emma doesn't think it was an accident?"

"Please don't tell anyone I told you. This kind of gossip.." Regina shuddered at the thought.

"Not a word. How horrible. It does explain some things.” She'd been there at that other beginning, Regina returning to Storybrooke. Had seen the look in Regina's eyes the first time she laid them on Emma, watched as that gaze was returned. “Our mother was right about one thing, Emma would die to protect you and Henry."

**

There wasn't anything unusual about a crowd at the diner on a Saturday, or the handful of motorcycles parked out front. That didn't stop the hairs on the back of Emma's neck from standing on edge, a familiar unease growing in the pit of her stomach as she approached the diner. She recognized one of the bikes. One she hadn't seen in years. The returning memories not one of nostalgia but dread, a tinge of guilt.

The door to the diner opened. Emma felt some of the blood drain from her face. "August?"

August Booth lifted his eyes, lips stretching into a broad smile. He looked better than the last time she'd seen him, back when she was still living some of the worst aspects of her 'bad girl phase'. The days after she'd been freed from prison. August, Emma had to admit, he looked good, like he'd gain some of the weight back from his days of deep addiction. The days when Emma had fallen, deep and hard. When the only one that could pull her out of that deep hole was herself.

"Hey, Emma." He walked towards his bike. That familiar smile still stretched on his face, Emma fighting the urge to curl her hand into a fist and crack it against his jaw. She'd grown to hate that smile.

It was instinctual, placing her hands on her hips, opening her jacket, exposing the badge and the gun. "I didn't realize you were back in town."

"Didn't realize I had to announce it." He reached for his helmet. Placing it on the seat, he folded his arms over it. The smile fading as his face went pensive. "I'm clean, Emma. Have been for awhile now. This is part of my recovery, making amends, you know."

Emma had a talent, a gift her mother called it, the ability to tell when someone was lying. A gift that always failed her when it came to one August Booth.

"Talk to my father," he added, reacting to her silence.

"Don't mind if I do."

"He told me you'd changed." August put on his helmet, that smile returning. "Seems like the same Emma to me." Turn of the key, he gunned the engine to life. When his eyes lifted, there was a sadness there. One Emma hadn't seen in a very long time. "Sorry about Neal."

Then, August Booth was gone.

**

The town of Storybrooke wasn't named after a quaint gurgling brooke lifted from a fairy tale. Like many small towns across the nation, Storybrooke was built by the railroad, forming around the single line of tracks that bisected the town. It was the people that turned those halves into the ones that revolved around the haves and the have nots.

A freight car, nothing left but rust and graffitti, abandoned by the railroad years before Emma had been born, it sat a hundred yards from the beach. A popular hangout for the kids from 'the wrong side of town'. A location Emma knew well. As the Sheriff's car approached, the dozen or so occupants scattered like cockroaches.

All except one.

Ruby Lucas sat on the edge of the opened cargo door, legs dangling. If Emma Swan had the title of 'town bad girl', it'd been Ruby who'd carried the flag after Emma left.

"Sheriff," Ruby grinned, all coy and come hither as she leaned back on her hands, "am I under arrest?"

"Knowing how much you like being cuffed?" Emma grinned back. "No."

Emma drug herself up onto the edge. Noticing the blunt in Ruby's fingers, she casually pulled it between her own fingers, taking a long hit. In the grand scheme of things, Ruby was small potatoes, harmless. Her vices, sex and/or drugs, were all casual. But, she had her ears to the ground in a way Emma couldn't anymore.

"Is it true?" Because Ruby was the type to wait until Emma was on full inhale before asking a question. "You and the Mayor are back together?"

"Christ, Ruby," Emma exhaled the blue-white smoke in a hard gasp. "Could you sound less disappointed, please?"

“Fuck, Swan! When're you gonna let someone else have a shot?” Ruby teased. Mostly. That untamed wolfish look in her eyes everytime Regina was in the vicinity. "She's still on my bucket list."

"Yeah, well,” Emma snorted, “get used to disappointment. That's one item you won't be scratching off."

Ruby wagged her eyebrows. "Unless you two want a threesome."

"Don't think I won't arrest you." Emma quieted, turning serious, taking another long drag. "August Booth is back in town."

"Seriously?" Ruby straightened, gaze focused and fixed on Emma. "Shit. The last time I saw him was down in Miami. And that was, like, five or six years ago."

Emma had her mistakes. The ones you lived with forever. Ruby had hers. Ruby out of her league and in over her head, Emma taking a flight to Miami and coming to Ruby's rescue.

Hand running over her face, Emma sighed. Policing a small town was supposed to be easy, rebellious teens and sparring neighbors. Not wounds that never healed, a growing list of unanswered questions. "Have you.." she exhaled, "heard anything about Neal?"

"Neal?" Ruby shook her head. "No, why?" They've been best friends for too long for Ruby not to notice. Tensing, her eyes narrowed with concern."Emma?"

"Fuck," Emma grit. She didn't need her lie detector with Ruby, they'd been through too much shit together to get to that point. A town of several thousand and the number Emma trusted she could count on one hand, and have fingers left over. "Neal was murdered."

"Jesus! I didn't know, Emma. I swear!” she blurted, panic coloring her voice. They'd all been friends once. But, when Neal came back, Ruby drew her line in the sand. No room for nostalgia or old alliances, she was Emma's friend. And Neal had fucked Emma over. Loyal to the bone, she'd carried those resentments from all those years ago. “I swear, I had no idea. What do you need me to do?"

"Nothing!" Emma blurted, hard, almost angry. Because, Ruby would. Emma could ask the question and Ruby, ever the best friend, was there jumping in feet first. She reached, hand clasping to the back of Ruby's neck, drawing their faces close. Best friends, platonic sisters, former lovers. "Don't you do a fucking thing. Don't ask any goddamn questions. Just keep your fucking mouth shut. If I need you, I'll tell you. Got me?"

Nodding, Ruby brought their lips together. The kiss desperate and clinging. That time between them when they almost made it work. When Emma was clawing her way back up, Ruby still falling into that deep, dark hole.

"You're such an asshole," Emma chuckled, thumb tracing the edges of Ruby's lips.

"And you, Emma Swan," Ruby smugly grinned back, "are still the best thing I ever crossed out on my bucket list."

**

Regina Mills didn't like Neal Cassidy.

He and his mother, Milah, moved over from Seattle six months ago. All manufactured cool, with his grunge band t-shirts and flannel, ripped jeans and combat boots, the mop of wavy hair and scruff growing on his chin. Who always reeked of cigarette smoke and weed, the faint whiff of trouble. Neal, the shiny new toy from the city, who had all the kids under his thrall.

A thrall that included Emma Swan.

They were all there, all the kids from school, from both sides of town, joined together at the abandoned freight car. At the water's edge, a bonfire roared, music blaring from the speakers of the half dozen opened car doors. In two weeks, some of them would be graduating, including Regina.

They were a motley crew, Neal, Emma and Ruby (Emma's new puppy, Regina liked to call her, because wherever Emma was, there was Ruby Lucas), Junior and even Jefferson had begun hanging around. Regina was the outlier.

The Mayor's daughter was always the outlier.

"Hey, Swan," Neal called out, all flirty hangdog grin. He'd been flirting with Emma all night, practically from the moment he and his mother moved into town. "Your parents are Nolan's, why you call yourself Swan?"

"Transformation," Emma said the word like she knew what it meant. Tough girl stance as she leaned against the freight car, arms folded across her chest. "The ugly duckling that turns into a Swan. That's me, turning into something different."

Junior scoffed. "I thought you'd wanna turn into a cat. You know, with how much you like lickin' pussy." Two fingers shaped into a vee, he placed them to his mouth, wagged his tongue through the open space.

Everyone laughed..

Everyone except, Emma, except, Regina.

"Fuck off, Junior!" Emma lifted a fist, faked like she intended to punch him. "At least I know what pussy tastes like!"

"Doesn't count if it's your own!" he sneered back. Not quite afraid of being punched by Emma Swan as he used to be. A foot taller, several years playing football had done wonders for his physique, but not much else. Same old Junior.

"Quit being an asshole," Neal interjected. A six-pack of beer magically appearing in his hands, he peeled one off, handing it to Junior, then handed one to Emma. "It's cool."

It's how things were settled now, a simple determination by Neal, cool or uncool, and the argument was over. Emma already blushing at having been deemed 'cool'. She didn't notice the way Neal's fingers lingered, pausing as he handed her a beer. "You like boys?"

The blush deepened, lips twitching to hide her smile. "I like boys."

The hangdog grin widened. "Cool."

If Regina rolled her eyes any harder, they'd get stuck in the back of her head. Regina didn't know what she and Emma were. They were friends, albeit, an almost secretive relationship. Regina was a senior, Emma still a sophomore. But, they were friends. Friends who sometimes kissed, sometimes did more. Did the kinds of things that would probably get the both of them killed if either of their parents found out. Her fingers went to the lips that still tasted like Emma, the two arriving at the party and Emma immediately taking them behind a tree, kissing until they were breathess. The unspoken promise of something more lingering in the air between them. Regina's other hand went to cover her stomach, at the way it twisted from nervous butterflies to a hard clenching.

Jealousy. An emotion she'd never had to feel in regards to Emma Swan. 

It'd been Emma who'd showed up in a suit and a stolen limo, after Jefferson had dumped Regina on Prom Night. Emma who had taken Regina's hand, led her out to the dance floor, the two slow dancing with the entire town watching. There'd been that night in the hotel room, the one paid for by Regina's mother. A night of discoveries. All those discoveries made between them in the time after. Not a pact, but a bond, one that was never supposed to be broken.

Now, Regina was about to graduate. In a couple months, she'd be heading off to college.

Now, Emma Swan was flirting with Neal Cassidy.

The roar of an engine, a familiar motorcycle, and the entire crowd went dead quiet. A flock of birds that turned their heads in unison towards the single headlight piercing the forest surrounding the road.

"God," a voice groaned in the darkness. "Who the fuck invited that asshole?"

August Booth parked his bike at the edge of the party, Neal already making his way towards him. Their voices hushed low, but the exchange visible, cash for an unmarked pill bottle. Then, August gunned the engine, turning his bike around and heading back out into the night.

"Alright," Neal sauntered back to their group. "Who wants to pop a molly?"

Jefferson's hand was the first to shoot out. "Three for me."

"Fuck off," Neal snorted, tapping out a single white pill and placing it in Jefferson's palm. "This shit wasn't cheap. You'll get one just like everybody else."

They all watched as Jefferson popped the pill into his mouth, shuddering as he dry swallowed. The boys following, Neal then Junior, everything between them always turning into a pissing match. Neal turned his eyes to Emma. "You joinin' the party?"

"Emma, no!" It's not the first time Regina had been around when Emma did drugs. Regina had even participated on occasion, the occasional bottle of stolen alcohol, a drag from a joint. This was different. These were homegrown pills, from who knows where, pills from August Booth. August was older, twenty, and hung with a crowd that scared even this motley crew.

"Why'd you even bother coming?" Jefferson sneered. "Nobody invited you."

"I invited her!" Emma snapped back, like she remembered that they were sometimes actually friends. "It's fine, Regina."

Regina knew enough not to argue, knew it by the expression on Emma's face. Emma turned back to Neal, sticking out her hand, palm up, fingers wiggling.

"Uh-uh," Neal taunted, coy grin plastered all over his face. "You want it? You're gonna have to come get it."

Then, Neal stuck out his tongue, placed the pill on the end. A dare. Emma Swan the type to never to back down. She approached, all of them staring, Junior egging her on. As Emma opened her mouth, slid out her tongue and pressed it to Neal's.

And Regina felt her stomach clench into a thousand knots, watching the two as they kissed. Then, it was Ruby's turn. The pill passed to Emma, who placed it on her tongue, Ruby eagerly accepting.

No one offered any to Regina.

Regina hung back as the group made their way towards the bonfire. Watching Emma's hand as it reached down, slipping around Neal's.

No one noticed when Regina slipped away. As she walked to the other side of the railroad tracks, to the other side of town, alone, all the way back to the Mayor's mansion.

It would be another two years before Regina Mills saw or heard from Emma Swan again.

**

"Ruby kissed me, today."

A week, it'd barely been a week since that night on Mifflin Street. When Emma poured her heart out and Regina took her back. Henry was upstairs in his room, ecstatic at the news that he'd be permanently living there. A family dinner, the three of them again, and here was Emma. About to fuck it all up.

"And I kinda kissed her back."

With narrowing eyes, Regina set her drink down on the coffee table, leaning back against the couch. The Lucases were as much a legacy family as the Mills or the Whites. Ruby Lucas, the latest in a string of wild childs, with an allure Emma, and all her quirks, had never been able to resist. "Is this the part where I threaten to kill you or kill her?"

"I'm sorry. It wasn't like that. I mean, it was. Kinda. Sorta. Goddamnit.." Emma slumped forward, face in her hands. "I'm just so fucked up right now and I..."

"Emma." Hand placed to her back, a gentle circling motion. "What's going on?"

Head lifting, Emma still didn't have the courage to meet Regina's eyes, focusing on the floor. "August Booth is back in town."

"Oh." Emma never really talked about that time. The time when she was released from prison, the three years in Boston before she moved back to Storybrooke. All Regina knew was those were Emma's darkest days. Days in which August Booth played a very large role. From the offhand conversations with David and Mary-Margaret, Emma had barely survived. "This is about Neal, isn't it?"

"I don't give a shit if he is in recovery," Emma nodded. "August was always trouble. He was just better than the rest of us at not getting caught. Even if he wasn't involved, he'd know who was."

"Why don't you want to talk to him?"

"Because.." Emma leaned back on the couch, heels of her palms digging into her eyes until all she could see were sparks. "He's like a fucking black hole that does nothing but pulls the worst of me out into the open. He knows who I was, the things I did. He was there.." she pulled her hands away, staring at the ceiling, "August Booth is the reason I hit rock bottom."

"Do you really think he still has that kind of hold over you?" _She will die to protect you_ , Cora's words rang through Regina's head. "It's not August you're afraid of. It's you?"

Regina might not have seen Emma at her worst, but there was no one who knew her better. Not even August Booth. Emma leaned into the knuckles brushing her cheek. "Whatever he'd involved himself in, it got him killed. I'm terrified those wheels are still in motion. I'm terrified at what I might have to do to make them stop." For once, her life had been perfect. A job, a home outside her parents, Emma had a family, a wife she adored and a son shared between them. Then, Neal Cassidy returned to Storybrooke and Emma could feel the threads of that perfection unraveling. A year later, things were unraveling again. "All I wanted to do was take my wife out on a date." She leaned into the knuckles brushing her cheek, kissing them gently. "I just got you back. I don't want to lose you."

"You're not losing me, Emma." Regina moved closer, lips pressed softly to Emma's temple. "Because, this time, I'm not letting you go."

Forehead to Regina's neck, Emma nuzzled closer. "The night I ran away, I stopped by your house."

"Seriously?" lips pursing, the word spoken weakly.

"Yeah. I don't know whether I was gonna try and convince you to come with me, or hoped you'd convince me to stay."

"Why didn't you?"

"You weren't home," Emma answered. She didn't know to explain the time that felt like hours, standing in the yard of the Mayor's mansion, staring up at the darkened window in the top right corner. How her insides *ached*, because doing this, running away, just didn't feel right without Regina. How Neal had to practically beg to get Emma to move. It wouldn't be an adventure without Emma Swan, he'd said. How wrong they all were. Had they known the nightmare waiting for them, they still would have gone, young and arrogant enough to believe they could still come out on top. "What is it about this place? We all couldn't wait to get out of here. One way or another, we're all running back."

Regina hummed her agreement. "This is home. When you're falling, home is the place where there's someone to catch you." She ran her fingers over Emma's scalp, lips pressing to her temple. "You and Henry are my home. We're yours."

"God," Emma whined. "All I want is to take you out on a friggin' date! Just once before the world comes to an end."

"Then, do it," Regina chuckled.

Tilting up, with narrowing eyes and a playful grin. "Regina?"

"Because of your idiocy, we have a lot of lost time to make up for," she leaned closer, lips brushing against the shell of Emma's ear, murmuring low and seductively, "I miss having you inside me."

"Fuck," Emma grunted, eyes fluttering closed. Thoughts meandering to the few items she'd left behind when she'd moved out, a hidden drawer filled with toys, a custom made harness, leather cuffs and a riding crop. "You're evil."

"Nope." Her fingers trailed down, gliding over a thigh, fingertips finding the inseam and traveling higher. "Just thinking about our second anniversary. That timeshare in Honolulu. How many days was it before either one of us put on actual clothes?"

"Yep. Definitely, evil."

"Stay." An inevitability. There would always be the parts of them that clashed, like it had been built into their DNA. This was them, learning they fit too well to be apart. A danger lurking in the shadows, Emma would die to protect them. Regina could see that growing resolve in her eyes, Emma steeling herself. They fit too well to ever be apart. Emma would protect their family the only way she knew how. But, Emma wasn't the only one willing to die to protect their family. Regina had ways of her own.

Regina pressed a finger to Emma's lips, stifling the protest, her gaze more sympathetic than seductive. "In the guest bedroom. We both know you'll just come back and sleep in your car."

Emma could only chuckle, gazing up with adoring eyes, heart swelling in her chest. She pulled down the finger on her lips, then went in for a kiss. Another first time, then again, every time always felt like the first time. A warming, rising heat between them, muscle memory guiding touch, the playful tease of fingers at the top button of Regina's blouse. One, then another popping open, Emma fifteen years old and copping her first feel in the backseat of a stolen Camaro. Thumb against hardening nipple, and Regina whimper-moaned like she did that first time, all the times after.

"I thought.." Regina panted, breaking the kiss, "we were taking it slow."

"You're the one that brought up Honolulu," Emma teased, flicking her tongue over the parted lips, thumbnail tauntingly scraping at Regina's nipple through the brassiere. "Don't think I've forgotten what you did with that spatula."

"How else was I supposed to evenly distribute the whipped cream? You're such a wriggler. Now, if you'll excuse me," she grabbed the hand still inside her blouse by the wrist, placing it on Emma's knee before she rose, straightening herself out, "I'm off to take a shower." Regina sauntered away off Emma's whiny groan. Stopping in the doorway, she placed a hand to the frame, looking back with the slightest of head turns. "And you're joining me."

Then watched as Emma blew past her, practically running up the stairs.

**

A lazy, Sunday afternoon in Storybrooke. There'd been the typical titters and whispers in church upon the arrival of the Mills-Swan trio. Nothing that compared to the wave of silence upon the sight of Marco, entering church with his son, August. A sermon about forgiveness and family, quickly forgotten the moment the service was over to concentrate on today's gossip.

With her long list of uncompleted errands to run, Regina skipped the post-church lunch crowd at Granny's. She meandered down the aisles of the corner store, basket hanging from her elbow. Until, turning a corner, she stopped dead in her tracks.

Jefferson stood before the rows of feminine hygiene products, nervous and surreptitiously chewing a nail. His entire body trembling so hard the tips of his hair bounced.

"Jefferson?" Regina cautiously approached.

"Regina? Hi," he looked back sheepishly, somewhere between relief and embarrassed. "It's Grace. She.. uh.." he pinched his lips into a forced smile, "she's not a baby anymore."

Softening in sympathy, Regina gently smiled. "Would you like some help?"

Too relieved to speak, his head furiously bobbed.

They'd been best friends once. Born three months apart, Jefferson's family inheritors of the railroad and all the power and influence that came with it. Their family lived two houses down before Cora became Mayor and the Mills moved into the mansion. Raised side by side, their parents practically writing the wedding vows. Neither family could have known how differently the fates of their children would turn.

Regina spent the next fifteen minutes explaining menstration and the various products for it. Jefferson all wide-eyed and mind blown, hanging on each of Regina's words like she was some wizard spouting secret and ancient knowledge. For all of Jefferson's quirks, faults and flaws, he adored his daughter. When it all fell apart for him, he, like all the rest of them, came back to Storybrooke, tail tucked between his legs.

Eventually, the two made their way to the cashier. Josephine, older than the hills surrounding Storybrooke, her ears straining at Regina and Jefferson's conversation on the offchance she'd have something new to converse about around the bridge table, politely rang up the items. Items bagged and paid for, Jefferson, ever the gentleman, walked Regina to her car, the two arm in arm.

"Jefferson? Can I ask you a question?" she paused off the rise of his eyebrows. "It's something Emma and I have been discussing lately. Why did you come back? To Storybrooke?"

He stopped walking, brows furrowing like he'd never really contemplated the question. "For Grace," he said, head nodding with a finality. "Storybrooke is home. It's not perfect, but it can provide Grace with the structure and stability she needs."

Dark days, each of them with their own version. All these years later, all of them right back where they started. A little town in Maine called Storybrooke.

"Besides," the brightness returned to his eyes, "it wasn't all so bad. C'mon," he nudged her with his shoulder, "admit it."

"All right," Regina laughed. "It wasn't all completely terrible. I mean, aside from you dumping me on Prom Night." Her eyes narrowed off his broadening smile. "What?"

"All these years later and you still have no idea, do you?" He tilted his head, the arrogance returning to his grin. "About Emma."

"What about Emma?" This time, when Regina narrowed her eyes, it was with an 'I'm about to get irritated with you, aren't I?' expression she'd used so much when they were kids.

The most fun he'd had in years and unable to hide the excitement in his eyes. "Emma Swan paid me to dump you."

Standing on Main Street, Regina's jaw dropped down to her knees. "No, she did not!"

"Yep," he nodded, slow and deliberate. "Five hundred dollars."

"You cheap son of a bitch!" she playfully slapped his chest.

"Ow!" He winced, laughing. "C'mon, I can't believe you weren't even a little suspicious? Emma Swan? She shows up to your house on Prom Night in a suit, a *tailored suit*, mind you, and a goddamned limo?"

"Oh my God," she pressed a hand to her forehead, head shaking. "And I slept with her."

Brows raised, eyebrows staring blankly into space. "And I was able to score enough 'x' to keep me rolling for the entire summer."

Her brain hung on the word 'summer', the levity within her dissipating, filling with gravity. "Can I ask you another question? It's about that summer, the one after Neal and Emma ran away. You were with them, weren't you?"

He nodded. It was common knowledge amongst the kids, the talk of the town at the time. The time when the Sheriff's daughter ran away with the son of Mr. Gold. Then, Jefferson disappeared, not that anyone really noticed. A town where everyone read the headlines, never the print.

"Why'd you come back?" Regina asked.

He lifted his brows. "Things were getting scary."

"What do you mean?"

"I don't know why everyone was freaking out. They'd only made it down to Boston," he shuddered, once a snob, always a snob. "Anyway, one day, August Booth shows up. We were just kids, Regina, arrogant and invincible in our youth, ten feet tall and bullet proof. August shows up and it's not long before we're all in over our heads. We were all so high, I wouldn't be surprised if August doesn't remember most of the time he was with us. Then, he just up and leaves. August left us. Lambs treading water in a tank filled with sharks. Neal and Emma didn't leave for Oregon, they escaped," he paused off Regina's puzzled look. "C'mon, a fifteen year old, baby-faced virgin, well, virginal. Emma thought she was tough. She was still just a kid from Storybrooke. All the shit August was involved in, that he got Neal and Emma involved in. When I heard Neal let Emma take the fall.. let's just say, I wouldn't be surprised if he set Emma up for no other reason than to protect her."

Fingers to her lips, she felt them tremble. "Jesus, Jefferson." The more she learned about Emma's dark days, the worse it got. Because, Emma didn't return to Storybrooke right after she was released from prison. There were a few more years out there. Where the dark days got even darker. And somewhere, right in the thick of things, was August Booth.

Standing on Main Street, Regina felt the anger building within her.

One way or another, someone needed to talk to August Booth.

Before Regina killed him.

"Thanks, Regina."

A blink of her eyes and Regina was back on Main Street, a bag of various and sundry items hanging from the tips of her fingers, and Jefferson standing before her. She gazed up at him, a slight tilt of her head, a gentle narrowing of her eyes. "For what?"

"For helping me with Grace."

They'd been best friends once, closer than siblings. Drifted apart as kids often do after high school, embroiled in the family dramas started before they were born and forced to take sides. Mixed in with the dramas of their own creation. All these years later, Regina had to occasionally admit she missed the dopey son of a bitch.

"Despite what some in this town might think, you're a good father, Jefferson." Free hand reaching, fingertips to his chin, Regina lifted herself onto her toes, gently pressed her lips to his cheek. Then brushed the smudge of lipstick away with a thumb. "Don't be so scarce. You still have friends here."

**

_"Ladies always the best at pickin' locks."_

His name was Otis Weatherhill. He was sixty. During the day, he worked as a locksmith. At night, he taught kids like Emma Swan how to pick locks.. without getting caught. Rumor had it Otis spent the seventies with a crew that robbed banks, the kind of crew into digging tunnels and blow-torching steel. The kind of jobs planned months and months in advance. Neal and Emma had made it to Portland just in time to for Emma's sixteenth birthday. The two of them soaking wet from a rain storm, Emma crying, huddled next to Neal who told her everything was going to be okay, voice empty of conviction. And Old Man Otis took pity on the two scared and hungry kids too dumb to find some place other than a locksmith's to break into for shelter.

"Ladies got thin and nimble fingers," his voice a memory, far and distant, rang in Emma's ears, "it's not about strength. It's about finesse. Ya'll know I'm right."

"Yes, Otis," Emma whispered aloud, the tumblr clicking, the lock sliding free, "you always were."

Thirteen months after Neal Cassidy's death, not a single thing had changed in the studio apartment over Purbeck's Shoe Store. Just an unkempt cot, overturned milk crate serving as a coffeetable, the world's tiniest dining table with its two mismatched chairs, an empty coffee mug on the kitchen counter, bowl and spoon in the sink. The room empty, the air stale, but it looked lived in. Not the last space Neal occupied before his untimely death.

The cursory glance done, Emma got to work. She checked for loose floorboards, space behind the cupboards, in the vents, the bathroom. All the places she should have searched before Neal's death had been declared accidental. Just errant bills, local job contacts on scratches of paper, comic books for Henry, half a dime-bag and a crusty pipe for Neal. It was all innocuous, nothing suspicious. Monumentally frustrating. The trail hadn't just gone cold, it was arctic. Emma left with nothing but the guilt and the blame for not having acted sooner.

Still in the bathroom, Emma felt the shift in the air, the sensation that she was being watched. Hand on her gun, she spun, weapon raised.

Mr. Gold stood in the entrance of the apartment, both hands on the handle of his cane.

"Mr. Gold?" Wary, Emma reholstered her weapon. "What are you doing here?"

"That's my question.” He shifted, his gaze cold but suspicious. “Seeing as how this is my property. Which leads to my next question and whether or not you have a warrant."

"I thought this place was empty."

"Still private property, which means a warrant is still necessary for law enforcement to enter without the permission of the owner. Something a Sheriff, or even a former convicted felon would know." Neal's relationship with his father had always been tempestuous, a stew of bitter resentment. The bitter ex-wife who'd kept Neal away from his father until the law said she couldn't do it anymore without being penalized. Who quickly left town sometime after Neal ran away. Even with the reveal of a grandchild, Gold held no interest in anything beyond his son. Blamed Emma for Neal's life of crime, ignoring the fact that it was his own son who'd set them both up on that path. That Emma escaped first was of no interest to Gold.

"Why are you keeping this place?" Emma asked.

"I heard an interesting rumor," he found something of interest on the counter, rubbing at it with a thumb. "Robin Locksley might be running for Sheriff next year. Should make for an interesting election."

An odd man, a powerful man. Only Cora Mills more capable of putting the fear in people's hearts with just a look. But, like everything else in Storybrooke, Mr. Gold had a history that went back, the ripples still going forward.

"I'm here," Emma pulled on her jacket, " because I don't think Neal's death was an accident."

Gold didn't flinch, didn't move a muscle. "Murdered?"

"Yeah,” she walked towards the door, stopping on the other side of the frame and turning back to Gold, “and I intend to find who did it."

"My son's apartment seems a strange place to start. Maybe, you should try a mirror. If there's anyone that might have wanted my son dead, the first suspect on the list," he sneered, eyes cold and hard as he slammed the door in Emma's face, "is you."

**

"Fucking, Gold!" Emma flopped in the chair across from Regina's desk. "I've always hated that weasley looking mother fucker!"

"Honestly, Emma," Regina scoffed, "you're in the Mayor's Office, at least *sound* like you're a Sheriff."

"It's Sunday, Regina. Why are you even working?"

The tiniest of derisive sneers. Emma had enough on her plate, no point in adding to it. Still in her first term as Mayor, Regina had begun to hear the whispers, the talk of 'change'. Both of them running for re-election, next year was going to be interesting. And Regina saw no point in not starting now on her campaign. "I could ask the same of you."

In one way or another, the White's had been an authority in Storybrooke since its's inception. Back when a White was Mayor before being forced out by a Mills. An ironic twist of fate that the latest generation of Whites would start her career in law by constantly breaking it. "A Sheriff's job is never done," Emma shrugged.

"Neither is a Mayor's," Regina stated with a mirthless chuckle.

"Touche, Mayor Mills," Emma winked at her wife. Then, like a switch inside and flipped to on, the petulant child returned. "I was close, Regina. So.." her fingers curled into frustrated claws, "so fucking close to finding something."

"Something having to do with August Booth?"

This time, Emma did hear. With wide eyes, she lifted her head. "What?"

"You weren't the only one to have an interesting encounter today." Regina leaned back in her seat, elbow on the armrest, thumb and forefinger lazily rubbing together. "I ran into Jefferson at the store."

"Wow." Jefferson wasn't the town recluse, just very secluded in his recovery. A Jefferson sighting in Storybrooke these days, was akin to seeing Bigfoot. A story embellished then gleefully told around the table.

"He talked about the days after you and Neal ran away." Emma swallowed hard, the shadow of those dark days shrouding her face. "He mentioned things being a bit tense around the time he left."

"Yeah," Emma leaned back in her chair, slumping down. "You know what the worst part was? Those first couple months, I'd never felt so.. free. I'd finally transformed," she chuckled emptily, wistfully. "I knew how mortified everyone back home would have been. The three of us squatting in a shit-hole, one bedroom apartment. I remember lying on the mattress we'd got dumpster diving, playing with the sunbeams on my hand. And all I could think was 'I wish Regina was here'. I started bawling for no reason. Jefferson's freaking out, which just makes Neal freak out anymore. So, of course, August shows up out of nowhere, then," she paused, head shaking, knuckles pressed to her lips. It would be two more years before Emma got her wish, got to see Regina again and remembered what happiness felt like. "Then, it all went to hell."

"What happened? Why'd you leave Boston?"

"Shit," Emma winced. "The next time we saw August.. I might have been a dumb as fuck hick from the sticks, but I knew better than to touch the hard stuff. August was into the hard stuff. He kept bringing these sketchy, *sketchy* as fuck people to our place. Sketchy enough for Jefferson to 'peace out' all the way back to Storybrooke. I'm taking a shower one night and I hear Neal screaming. I come out and August was OD'ing. I'd never seen anyone OD before. Needle still in his arm, eyes rolling in the back of his head, foaming at the mouth while he flopped around on the mattress. And Neal's just freaking out, shoving all our shit into a bag, telling me we need to leave. We run downstairs. I call 911 on a payphone. And we ran. It wasn't until I got out of jail and went back to Boston that I realized he wasn't dead." Emma sighed. Leaning forward, elbows on her knees, lifting her head just enough to gaze up at Regina. "Do you hate me?"

"No, Emma, I don't hate you. August was older than all of us." She rose from her desk, circling around, arms folding across her chest as she leaned a hip. "An aspect of his personality he, apparently, used to finance his extra-curricular activities.."

"Like Neal and I had any money," Emma balked.

"No, but Jefferson did." She watched Emma's brows lift, the little nod of agreement. "Then, when August met up with you again. Let me guess, he saw those guilty puppydog eyes.." a dramatic pause with the slightest of head tilts, "and said you owed him."

A long, frustrated groan rumbled up Emma's throat. Her past like being a foot race against a Ferrari, always choking on its dust. "Please don't ask me about Boston."

The arms folded across her chest tightened. "Then talk to August. Because, if you don't, I will." Regina raised a finger. "And, swear to God, if you start whining about our date," she circled back around her desk, sliding into her chair, "you will be showering alone."

"Fine." Emma jerked up from her seat, palms pressed to Regina's desk as she leaned. "Then, let's do it. Let's go. Right now."

"What?"

"We got time. Tell the kid to stay with my parents, Hell, your parents. Let them spoil him to death for an evening. Let's grab some stuff, go to Portland, or Bangor, fuck it, let's go to goddamned Brunswick. You, me, one night where we don't have to deal with all this crap. One night, Regina.” Emma leaned closer, playing the only card she had left. “Let me be your Romeo."

Those puppy dog eyes. The ones Regina had been falling for since they were kids. All these years later, with the ups and downs and tumultuous family histories, it was those eyes Regina sought. The ones that made everything better. Made all the pain worth it.

"Fine," she grinned. "Take me away."

**

Two days after Emma Swan's fifteenth birthday, Emma got into another fight.

Sitting on the hood of Cora Mills' Volvo (Regina's sixteen now, the only one of them with the actual legal authorization to drive), Regina cleaning the cuts and scrapes on Emma's knuckles.

"Why do you do it?" Regina asked. "Get into fights you know you can't win?"

Emma shrugged, wincing at the sharp bite of pain in her knuckles. "Who says I'm trying to win? Besides, not all of us are smart like you."

"You think I'm smart?" She blushed, suddenly nervous, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "You're smart, Emma. Smarter than you think. Definitely, smarter than you like everyone to think you are."

"You always do that. Know what to say to make me feel better." Grin broadening, the part of Emma that liked making Regina smile. "So, is it true? Jefferson's taking you to Prom?"

"Ugh," Regina huffed, rolling her eyes. "His parents made him ask me."

Emma tilted her head, leaning a little closer. "You wanna go, don't you?"

"Well, yeah. But," the blush on her cheeks darkened, sheepish coy grin and eyes darting, "I was hoping Daniel would ask me."

If Regina saw Emma tense, she didn't notice. Didn't notice the sudden rigidity in Emma's back, muscles on her face going completely slack. "Who's Daniel?"

"You know," Regina gaped, "the boy who works at the stables."

"Oh." A shrug. "I didn't know you liked him."

That coy grin, lower lip nervously rolled through her teeth. "He's cute, and nice, and funny. His Dad lost his job, so Daniel's working to help his parents pay the bills. They're not, like, rich or anything. So, Mother hates him. God," Regina huffed, rolling her eyes. "She's such a snob. It's just.. Prom's supposed to be, like, special. You know, like in the movies or something. And I'm stuck with Jefferson. Who's allergic to girls and every color in the world except black."

"I could take you."

With eyes gone wide, Regina chortled, "That'd definitely be special. I doubt they'd let us in the doors."

"They'd have to,” she said, cocksure grin spreading her lips. “Especially for the prettiest girl in school."

"You think I'm pretty?"

That coy grin back on Regina's face, Emma's heart swelling in her chest at being the one to put it there. "I think you're the prettiest girl in Storybrooke, definitely prettier than Ashley or Kathryn."

"Really?" Regina beamed, blush burning her cheeks.

"Really." Emma already leaning forward, eyes hooded and focused on Regina's lips.

It wasn't their first kiss, that had been last summer. Regina still melted as if it had been, chest twitching from a sudden nervousness, heart hammering like it could explode from her chest. Soft and chaste, it ended as quickly as it had began. The two still leaned close to each other.

"Does this mean I can take you to Prom?" Emma grinned.

"Emma!" Regina giggled. "I already have a date."

"Fine," Emma huffed, going all puppy dog eyes before the playful glint returned. "Can I kiss you again?"

Eyes darting to the lips she now knew tasted like cherry chapstick, Regina swallowed, smiling. "Yes."

**

"Can I ask you a question?"

Emma had done it, taken her wife out on a date. Sure, it'd meant swallowing her pride and asking for a favor from Cora Mills. Who loved nothing more than showing off her extensive list of contacts with the understanding that, at some point, the favor would be returned and returned without question. But, Emma and Regina were in Portland, at the best table at the best restaurant in town, booked into a penthouse suite of the best hotel.

Dinner completed, the table cleared before the arrival of their desserts. The conversation had been mostly light, a little flirty. Emma leaned back in her chair, gently spinning her wine glass by the stem.

"This should be interesting," Regina leaned forward, running her finger around the lip of her glass. "I'm trying to think of something about me you don't already know."

Regina's eyes narrowed at the smile stretching Emma's lips, that cocksure, ten feet tall and bulletproof, fifteen year old. "Was I your first?" Emma finally asked.

"Emma Ruth Evelyn Nolan White Swan!" Regina laughed. "You arrogant, little shit!"

"A 'yes' would have been sufficient."

"Hate to break it to you," it was Regina's turn for her smile to turn confident, "but, you weren't."

"Wait?" Emma's face fell. "What? No.." Her back straightened, hands placed onto the table, fingers outstretched. "Daniel?" A slow shake of Regina's head. “Lancelot?” The same seductive stare. “Junior?” Regina gave a look that could freeze boiling lava. "Seriously? I can't believe this. You have to tell me." Regina's lips went into a tight, teasing grin. "Regina? C'mon!"

Her eyes went to the finger circling her glass, reveling in the moment. There was something to be said about the appeal of tormenting one Emma Swan, and the amazing sex that always occurred afterwards.

"Regina," Emma whisper-growled. "Don't make me beg." An eyebrow rose. "Okay, fine. Regina, please."

She chuckled, raising the glass to take an overly dramatic sip. "Jefferson."

"What?" Emma's draw dropped. She leaned closer, voice lowered to a forced whisper. "Are you fucking shitting me? When?"

"Two months before Prom."

"Are you.. seriou.. Regina!" Completely flustered, Emma sputtered. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I was embarrassed," a slight squeak in her voice, shoulders scrunching. "We weren't exactly safe. There's a reason I got rid of abstinence only sex-ed at the school." She took a hard swallow of wine, muttering into her glass, "Those were definitely the longest three weeks of my life."

"Wow," Emma sighed, reaching for her own glass.

"Who was yours?"

"Ugh," Emma grunted. "Graham Humbert."

A puzzled squint narrowed her eyes. "He was a hottie, even back in high school."

"Yeah,” Emma nodded, eyes filled with mock horror. “Wanna know why he was always single? Because, once you got up close you realized he smelled like soggy leaves and wet dog. It was so awful, Regina, so awful.” She leaned back in her seat, palms to the side of her forehead. “Neither of us had any clue what we were doing. I bumped his head so hard, I almost broke his nose. When he went down on me, he had no idea which hole was which. And how I discovered I really like rimming. Anyway, he finally gets up the nerve to stick it in. And when he does, he came about five strokes later, worse, he kept making all these weird growling sounds the entire time. God," Emma groaned. Regina could laugh all she wanted, Emma thought with a disbelieving shake of the head, nothing would be as embarrassingly humiliating as the night she'd lost her virginity. "Thinking back on it, I'm just glad he didn't ask me to get on all fours and bark like a dog."

Laughter dying down to a chuckle, Regina demurely wiped at the tears threatening to ruin her makeup. "I'm sorry." She inhaled, collecting herself. "Why is it so important that you were my first?"

"I wouldn't say it's important. It's just.." she paused, eyes going distant with thought, then fixed her gaze on Regina, heart swelling with an aching fondness. "It was the first time it actually felt special, you know. Instead of just sex, it was the first time it felt like.."

"Making love," Regina finished.

"Yeah,” a beaming smile that lit up Emma's entire face, put a twinkle in her eye. “That entire night was special. One of the bests of my life."

"Well.." Regina dragged, calculating grin returning, "speaking of that night? I had an interesting talk with Jefferson earlier today."

Eyes so wide the whites were showing, Emma slapped her hands to her face, covering her mouth. "Oh my God!" she mumbled through her fingers. "He told you, didn't he?"

A slow nod of her head. "That you paid him to dump me on Prom Night?"

"Regina.." A hard swallow of wine, for a mouth suddenly parched.

A tiny spark of anger. "I slept with you, Emma."

"Regina, I didn't plan that. You have to believe me.." Emma reached across the table, hand desperate and clasping around Regina's. "I would never.."

"I know," she smiled, eyes warm, thumb tracing over Emma's knuckles. "And I wouldn't change a thing. You're the love of my life, Emma Swan. You always have been."

Emma glanced at the thumb grazing over her fingers, the matching gold band. Thoughts meandering back to that time Emma asked the question and Regina said 'yes'. They were supposed to be soldiers in an endless war, not lovers standing in a county courthouse exchanging vows. All those times Emma ran. Every time she fell. There was Regina – her rock, her center. Her Tallahassee. Emma wasn't afraid anymore. Emma wasn't running. After everything, the woman across from her still loved Emma. Emma falling in love all over again. “We should probably have dessert delivered to our room. Unless, you know, you really want me to do you on this table. Because.." Emma nodded vigorously. “I will. I really, really will.”

**

Regina's fingers were trembling, trembling, as she attempted to slide the key into the lock. The world's slowest elevator, packed to capacity and stopping on every floor. The two of them standing close, with just their fingers threaded together, a heated blush painting their cheeks, quietly giggling at their own ridiculousness. There was a part of Regina, deep down, a tiny voice in her head, constantly screaming at her. A tiny voice that sounded a lot like Cora. A voice that said she should be angry, furious even, at Emma. For taking out her frustrations on Regina, on their family, for tearing them all apart.

Even when things were at their worst, there was always that hope. Regina was in love with Emma, always had been, always would be. Forgiveness was easy when those arms were wrapped around her, when their son was safely asleep in the home they'd built for each other. Falling in love again was easy when they were starting all over, the ground between them on an even keel, closer together. Emma no longer running, Regina no longer pushing. Easier to accept how well they fit together when they were no longer trying to pry those pieces apart.

With hands sliding around Regina's waist, Emma pulled herself closer. Nuzzled through the hair on Regina's neck, all so she could kiss the skin. "I love you, Regina Mills."

“You’d better,” Regina chuckle-purred, neck arching into Emma’s touch.

The door opened, the two practically spilling into their room. Regina gasped at the dozens of candles illuminating the room. The rose petals scattered on the floor and leading to the bedroom. The tray on the table, the tiny ramekins filled with various fruits and sauces, surrounding one giant bowl of whipped cream, a spatula sticking out the top.

“You didn’t?” Regina spoke through the fingers covering her mouth.

Arms once again wrapping around Regina’s waist, Emma set her chin on Regina’s shoulder. “I told you I love you.”

Regina spun, wanting nothing more than to feel Emma’s lips against her own. Emma quickly took the lead, walking the two of them until Regina’s back was pressed to a wall. Hands to Regina’s elbows, Emma guided Regina’s arms up, pinning the wrists to the wall. “I love you, Regina Mills,” she husked, “And I’m never leaving you, again.”

“Third time’s the charm,” Regina smirked back, only to be shut up with another kiss.

Emma, gentle, teasing, demanding, wanted nothing more than to take her time, spend the next forever kissing Regina. She explored with her lips, like she’d never kissed before, like kissing Regina was the only thing keeping Emma alive. Massaging and pecking and suckling, she traced trails along the jawline, planting butterflies on her cheeks. “My beautiful wife,” she whispered before sucking on an earlobe.

“Emma,” Regina groaned, arms still above her head, pinned to the wall by invisible hands.

“Tell me you want me,” Emma murmured into Regina’s neck, as her hands cupped perfect breasts, teasingly kneading through the dress. “Tell me you love me.”

“I love you, Emma Swan.”

And their lips were connecting again. Regina let her arms drop, fingers tangling in Emma’s hair, holding as their kiss deepened. Too stubborn not to be in control at least once, Emma chuckling into her lips. As her hand expertly slid down, slipping under Regina’s hem, fingertips worming their way into her panties.

The kiss broke from a heated groan, Regina shuddering, hips twitching as those fingers slid across her heated flesh. Her hips already rolling, already hungry, eager and wanting.

“Fuck,” Emma grinned, chuckling into the parted and panting lips, “I love how wet you get.”

“MmmHmm, if you don’t take me into that bedroom right now and ravish me senseless?” Regina, eyes all hunger and fire, tapped her index finger against Emma’s lips. “That’ll be all you’re getting.”

Emma thread her fingers with Regina’s, pulling as she began walking backwards, leading them both to the bedroom. “You’re such a bossy bottom.”

With a playful narrowing of the eyes, Regina teased, “That’s because you’re so terrible at directions.”

“One time! One TIME!!” Emma whined.

“Emma,” Regina taunted, stopping before she crossed over into the bedroom, creating an invisible barrier, Emma on one side, Regina on the other. “Aren’t you supposed to be seducing me?”

Emma pulled, reeling Regina in. “Damn right, I am.”

Another kiss. Because, they couldn’t stop kissing each other. An addiction neither wanted to break. A kiss that seemed to never end, but did. They were good at this, the undressing, quick and effortless. Emma on one side of the bed, Regina on the other, the two climbing onto the mattress and walking on their knees until they met in the middle. Both unable to stop thinking about that night so many years ago, a night similar to this one. It was Regina who brought their lips together, kissing like she never wanted to stop.

It was Emma who pulled back, felt something shifting between them, the gentle vibrations in the mattress. “Regina,” she whispered gently, almost shocked, eyes scanning Regina’s face as her hands cupped her cheeks. “Regina, you’re shaking.”

“I know,” she sniffled, lips pinching together to keep herself from crying. “You left a tulip on my windowsill.” Regina had never been one for nostalgia, or living in the past. An unavoidable fate no matter how fast and far she ran, there would always be a part of her, that Regina Mills, the sad and lonely rich kid from the other side of the tracks. "That's how I knew you were gone." She buried her face into Emma's neck, shoulders wrapping tight around her shoulders. "I would have followed you," voice breaking as she murmured, "I would have followed you anywhere."

"Oh, Regina," Emma pulled her arms tighter, a hand to the back of Regina's head.

The slowing of time, skin against skin as they slipped between the sheets. Emma, not eager, just needing to take the lead, needing to show Regina, to let her feel how much Emma loved her. How she wished she could take it all back, be that kid standing in the yard, ignoring the anxiousness, the impatience building within her. To show Regina she was capable of standing still. Tired of running, because this was her home. This woman. No matter where she went, Emma had no intention of leaving her side. Not again.

She showed her. With the lips she kept pressed to Regina's, the hand between them, fingers undulating, gently and slowly against Regina's clit. Her efforts returned. Emma felt it in the way Regina kissed her back, a desperate longing, the nails that dug in her scalp, the fingers dragging along her back, the hips that rolled into her fingers. Until all that was left was release, Regina arching, pleasure-pained wail erupting from her throat, body twitching and shuddering.

"Say it," Regina croaked, milked of every aftershock, Emma finding one more, "say you love me."

Emma grinned, lips finding the pulsepoint, the one that always made Regina shiver. "I love you."

The night still young, the subsequence efforts a little more playful, a little more athletic. There was still a bowl of whipped cream on a table, a drawer of silk scarves. The time to relive those moments after the first time, to try and make them a little better.

The fates may have tried to tear them apart but finally, finally, Emma and Regina learned..

They were stronger together.

**

"You're drunk, Regina Mills," Zelena laughed, leaning into her sister.

Yes, she was. Regina Mills was drunk.

After the accident, the loss of Daniel and their unborn child, there seemed no point in continuing the path that had been laid out for her since before she was born. Regina dropped out of law school, moved down to Miami with Zelena. Who spent her every waking moment complaining about the heat.

Then, a phonecall from her father. Cora Mills had broken her hip from a suspicious fall down a flight of stairs ("That son of a bitch, Arthur, pushed me!" Regina heard her mother screaming in the background). Regina was needed home. And, because there wasn't enough alcohol on the planet to help Regina deal with a convalescing Cora Mills, Regina drug Zelena with her.

"Good lord," Zelena scanned the crowd surrounding the bonfire. "What a motley crew. No wonder you couldn't wait to get out of here."

They were all there, in one way or another, the various classes of the 90's and the early 00's. A high school reunion of sorts. The ones who never left and the ones who came back. The youthful naivety and optimism of youth not completely scraped away by the cynicism of adulthood.

"C'mon.." Zelena took the beer from Regina's fingers, taking a long pull. "You know you've been waiting years to do this, now, give your sister all the dirt. Before I choose which one I plan to ride like a pony."

Regina rolled her shoulders, fingers folding together as she extended her arms to crack her knuckles. Then, began to point. "Married, single, married, divorced, cheating on his wife, cheating on her husband with *him*," she paused, eyes narrowing, "single, pathetically single, gay, closeted.."

"Who is *that*?"

Regina turned her head off Zelena's salacious purr. "Graham Humbert. Town Deputy." A cant of her head, Regina narrowed her eyes, examining. Genetics had always been good to Graham, the time since high school hadn't hurt. He'd grown another half foot, added another thirty pounds of muscle. He'd even found a decent barber. The mustache needed work, a little too 70's gay porn star for Regina's liking. But, compared to the other fish in their back water town, he was as good a catch as one was likely to find.

And then, the sisters watched as a female figure, silhoutteted by the bonfire, walked up to Graham and kissed him on the lips.

"I hate her, already," Zelena sneered. "Who ever she is?"

Hand in hand, they walked away from the fire, towards the car with all the beer. Faces coming into view from the headlights pointed towards the water.

"Swan," Regina swallowed, eyes widening. "Emma Swan."

"Your Emma Swan?"

If time had been good to Graham Humbert, it'd been excellent to Emma. It's not the first time Regina had seen Emma since high school. There'd been the phone call from prison. The terrified and pregnant teen just needing someone to hold her hand. There'd been that day on Main Street, several days ago, Regina just back in town, Emma back for a year. The awkward and stilted conversation that went no where, each grateful when it ended.

There was the day Regina met Emma's son and it felt like something, the foundation of her world, had shifted beneath her feet.

A nudge from Zelena. "Didn't you sleep with her?"

"That was a million years ago!" Regina squeaked.

"And did she look that hot back then?” Another tilt of her bottle, the slur finally hitting her speech. “Are you sure you're a Republican? Does Mother know?"

Wide-eyed, Regina slapped her arms. "Don't you dare!"

Illuminated by nothing but a bonfire and random headlights, Zelena's eyes twinkled in the dim light, with a mischievous glint and an even more mischievous smile. "Why? Are you planning on sleeping with her again?"

A heated glare, Regina's lips parted to speak..

"Hey."

And, Emma Swan was standing right there. Right there. In her boots and painted on jeans, the leather belt she'd stolen from a thrift store, a tank top that barely covered her midriff, hair haloed by the bonfire.

Regina swallowed. _I am not sleeping with Emma Swan. I am not sleeping with Emma Swan._

"Hey," Regina answered back.

"Deputy Humbert, is it?" A lioness on the prowl, Zelena slithered between all of them, hand finding the crook of Graham's elbow. "Would you mind taking me to the bar? I'm searching for something a little more refined than.." she paused, swallowing her derision, "Coors Light."

"Did she.." Emma pointed with her beer hand, already turning to lean against the car, "did she just steal my boyfriend?"

"Don't worry," Regina took a swig of her beer, swallowing that 'boyfriend' comment. "She's just using him as a decoy while she finds bigger prey."

"Good luck with that," Emma chuckled into her beer. "Besides, I'd hate to kick the crap out of your sister."

They descended into silence, awkward and familiar. The years between them like a wall neither knew how to tear down. Thin enough for a little of the easiness to filter through.

"Hey," Regina nudged Emma with a shoulder. "How's the munchkin?"

"Great," Regina watched as Emma's face brightened, beaming like the sun had come out. An expression reserved only for her son. "He's finally the center of attention at school. My parents are going to spoil him rotten. And you?" Emma nudged her back. "I can't believe you gave him tickets to 'The Lion King'. He hasn't shut up about it."

"He's a sweet kid. Kinda reminds me of you."

With a shy smile, faint blush creeping up her cheeks, Emma lowered her head, watching her boot as she pushed a rock against the dirt. "I never thanked you," she said, eyes lifting.

"For what?"

"For convincing me to keep him."

Her back straightened, head slowly shaking. "Emma, I didn't.."

Too ashamed and guilty to call her parents. Of all the numbers she could have called. The only number Emma thought of. It was a complete accident she had Regina's number to begin with. A letter from Ruby, a list of contacts just in case. Ruby just sly enough to slip Regina's name on the list. "You were there, Regina. You came when I called. Having you there," she blinked, eyes going back to the ground, to the boot and the rock, "it reminded me that I could be strong."

Reaching, Regina softly clasped her hand over the one curled on the car. They used to be friends. Best friends. There would always be a piece of her heart, a piece owned by Emma Swan. "Anytime."

**

"Knock it off, Swan."

Junior Spencer was drunk. He slumped down next to Emma on the edge of the opened freight. He'd switched from beer to whiskey, the bottle sloshing in his hand as he rediscovered his center of gravity.

"What're you going on about?"

"You," he slurred, breath all stale cigarettes and booze. "You've been making puppydog eyes at her all night. Like the saying goes, the more things change, the more they same the.." he stumbled, "the more they stay the same. She's always been out of your league, Swan. That ain't never gonna change."

"First," Emma raised finger. "I don't make puppydog eyes. Second, I can still kick your ass." He snorted. "Third, I'm not interested in Regina Mills."

Her eyes darted towards the bonfire. Where the party was in full swing, the Mills sisters dancing like no one was watching, joyous and unabandoned.

"See," Junior leaned into Emma. "Puppydog eyes."

"Fuck off!" she laughed, shoving him hard enough to make him tip over. But not before grabbing his bottle of whiskey. She cleaned the lip with the bottom of her shirt, taking a long swig. "Can I ask you a question? Why'd you never leave Storybrooke?"

Junior would have been their third companion on that fateful night. Had he not chickened out before Neal picked Emma up. Junior bumbled and swayed, finally managing to pull himself up. Forearms on his knees, he looked up at the sky, inhaling deeply as the years drifted away and he was a sixteen year old kid, one with hopes and dreams and ambitions, the entire world at his feet for him to conquer and conquer alone.

"You should have been here," a mirthless chuckle released from his throat. "The entire town turned into a shit show when you and Neal left. Like, I wasn't gonna say shit, you know. But, I could see it everyone's eyes. 'What do you know, Junior?', 'where'd they go, Junior?', 'why didn't you go with them?'. I don't know," he inhaled, ran a finger back and forth under his nose. "I guess I got scared. School started up again. I tore up my knee and all those people that used to look at me like I was someone special, Arthur Spencer's kid, the high school quarterback that was gonna get us to the state championship, the one with the full ride to college, they.. they just stopped looking. So, I figured, fuck it. Why try and be what other people want, when I can just be happy being me?"

"Are you? Happy?"

“I don't know,” he shrugged. "Everything changed after my Mom died. It's not what my father wants. I'm not even sure it's what I want. But, it's mine, you know. I mean, look at us. Neal's still on the run. Jefferson's in a mental institution. Graham's a fucking deputy. Ruby's a waitress whenever she's in town. You've got a kid. Regina.." he paused, leaning towards Emma as his voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper, "am I ever gonna get my five-hundred bucks back? Or do you want Regina Mills to know the real reason she fucked you on Prom Night?"

Then, Junior jumped off the freight, cackling wildly as he bolted.

"Goddammit," Emma grit, smile stretching her lips as she gave chase. "Albert 'Junior' Spencer, I'm gonna kick your fucking ass!"

**

Regina drove. Which meant Regina chose the radio station. And Emma kicked back in the passenger's seat, quietly humming to herself rather than listen to NPR. Early morning, the sun on its way to burning off the night chill still hovering in the air. The day started off with breakfast in bed, a quickie in the shower that lasted longer than either intended but had no interest in stopping. They'd be back in Storybrooke, soon enough. Those obligations and expections, a weight in the distance, ready and waiting to press down on them upon their return.

"Hey," Regina reached, turning down the volume on the radio. "Can I ask you a question?"

"I told you," Emma grinned. "Anytime you wanna pull over for a quickie, I am ready, willing and able."

"Stop it," she playfully slapped Emma's arm. "I'm serious."

"So am I. Okay, fine," Emma lifted up her seat, torso turning so she could face her wife. "What's your question?"

Her jaw clenched, corner of her lips twitching at the forming smile. "When did you start planning to take me to Prom?"

"Oh!" Emma paused, brows knitting, lips pursing before she shrugged. "That day at the quarry." Early September and it was the hottest day of the year. Two teenaged girls with an entire reservoir all to themselves. Regina had peeled down to her bathing suit, Emma, always the bolder, going completely nude.

"Seriously?” The revelation shouldn't have taken Regina by surprise, as impulsive as Emma could be she was also pretty good at preparation when she stopped to stand still. “Emma, that was month's earlier."

"You remember?"

"Of course, I remember.” She reached, hand to Emma's knee before she placed it back on the steering wheel. “That day was our first kiss. Please tell me you remember."

"Of course, I remember! Me looking down into those beautiful brown eyes of yours, that look on your face, my heart going a million miles a minute. And all I could think was," she paused, the years melting away, "one day, I'm gonna marry that girl."

"God," Regina chuckled. Elbow on the windowsill, head lightly resting against her knuckles. Friends, best friends, but a relationship kept in mostly secret. Caught between two families at war, the biggest battle raging between them. "We really were in love with each other back then, weren't we? With absolutely no clue."

"Junior had a clue," Emma snorted. "Every black eye I gave him was over you."

"You *were* my Romeo."

Emma wagged her eyebrows. "Still am." A buzzing in her pocket, and Emma reached for her cell. "Sheriff Swan?" she said. Because, it was Monday and, technically, she and Regina were on the clock. "Good morning, sir.." Regina tensed in the corner of her eye. Only one man in the world Emma referred to as 'sir'. "Yes, sir. We'll be there in about 20."

Regina pressed down on the gas.

**

Despite the two strokes, time (and high quality medical care) had been good to former Senator Henry Mills. Hair completely gray, a constant tremble in his left hand, he still exuded the power and grace that led him to four terms as a state representative.

Everyone liked and respected Henry Mills, even Emma Swan. He never treated Emma like a kid, or from the wrong side of the tracks. He didn't treat Emma, or her parents even when they were battling, like she didn't belong. What Henry expected for himself, he expected from others. When Emma returned to Storybrooke, twenty-years old, the impoverished former felon with a toddler in tow, returned to the scornful looks and arrogant whispers. It'd been Henry who'd greeted her on Main Street, in full view of the entire town, with his warm smile and firm handshake. Who doted on the little boy in Emma's arms as if she and Henry were his own.

Everything changed after that day on Main Street. The looks a little less scornful, the whispers dying down to a hushed lull. Because, Henry Mills had the kindness and decency to treat Emma like a human being.

"So.." he said from the corner of the couch in the living room, hands steady as he read the newspaper. "I hear you and Regina are back together."

Hands in her back pockets, Emma rocked on her heels. "Yes, sir." A quirk Emma picked up from her father. For as long as she could remember, David referred to Henry Mills as 'sir'. Saw the twinkle in his eye whenever he and Henry were alone, talking about 'the old days'. Rumor had it, they used to be friends.

A flick of a finger and the corner of the paper folded down, Henry gazing up at Emma. "You planning to break her heart again?"

All these years, Henry had never sat Emma down for 'The Talk'. Emma could only chuckle, she probably deserved it this time. No, definitely deserved it this time around. Slowly, unable to stop the soft smile, Emma shook her head back and forth. "No, sir."

"Good," the paper snapped back up. "I'd hate to have to sic Cora on you."

Emma nodded, grin stretching. "I'd hate that, too."

"She's like her mother," he flipped a page, "loves with everything she has then fights twice as hard to protect it. When Daniel died, we thought we'd lost her forever. Then, there you were, putting the stars back in her eyes. You and my grandson," he added, voice filled with pride. And Emma swallowed, at his earnestness, his honesty. "I don't give a damn about bloodlines. All those damned petty squabbles. You're her family. You're *our* family."

"Thank you, sir."

"And quit calling me 'sir'," he snapped, that familiar twinkle in his eye. The one he passed on to his daughter. "I'm not a general and you're not a damn soldier."

"Yes.."

Before she could add 'sir', Regina and Cora entered the study. Regina setting the tea tray on the coffee table before taking the space next to her father on the couch. Emma's eyes on Cora, watching the woman as she headed towards the window, her back to them all.

"Daddy," Regina kissed his cheek. "What's going on?"

Henry inhaled deeply, setting down the paper in his hands. Turning, he placed a hand to Regina's cheek, thumb gently rubbing. "My sweet girl," he smiled tenderly. "It's time for me to go home."

"Home?" her brows creased. "Daddy, this is your home."

"No, mija. I mean back to Puerto Rico. Storybrooke is where I was born. Puerto Rico's my home. I miss my family. The sun on my face and in my bones. The language that's my own, the people.."

Already protesting, Regina shook her head. "I don't understand."

"Your father's sick, Regina," Cora finally spoke, eyes still focused outside, fingers surreptitiously clasping the charm on her necklace. The one Henry Mills gave her all those years ago. "The doctors say he doesn't have much time left."

Henry scoffed, "Doctors, what do they know? I feel fine."

"Then why are you leaving?" Regina pleading, begging, things going too well to feel the world shifting under her feet again.

"You're not alone, mija," he leaned, pressing his lips to her forehead, "you have your family, your sister. All that a father could ask for his daughter, that you are loved. Besides, I'm just a plane ride away."

"We'll visit." She nodded, sniffling, already making the travel arrangements. "All of us. As soon as we can."

"Of course, you will," he chuckled into Regina's embrace. Forever and always his little baby girl. Privileged at getting to watch all of his hopes and dreams for her come true. Henry was a father, his number one job always to protect his child. His face darkening as he pulled from Regina. "I'm sorry, but there's more."

Regina's face fell. "I don't think I can take anymore."

"It's about Neal Cassidy."

The room went dead quiet, Henry turning his head towards the woman standing by the window. "Cora?"

Never one to miss an opportunity for the dramatics, Cora Mills slowly turned, met each person staring at in her once in the eye before she spoke, "Two months before his death, I saw Neal enter Arthur Spencer's office. I'm not sure why that man continues to employ Ethel as his secretary, that woman couldn't keep a secret to save her life.."

"Cora," Henry politely interjected. "The point, please."

"They were discussing Neal's legal rights as Henry's parent. Neal wanted to fight for full custody."

"Neal.." Emma shook her head. Hand to her stomach to keep it from dropping any lower, she groaned, "he wouldn't do that."

"A lot can happen in ten years. No one knows what happened in those ten years he was away. Just the idea of a suit and Arthur was already licking his chops," she scoffed. "A straight man fighting for the custody of his son against a couple of lesbians? There was no way in Hell I was letting *that* man, or his odious father, get their meat hooks into my grandson." Unlike her husband, Cora was never one to let go of a grudge, against Arthur Spencer or Mr. Gold. "It'll be a cold day in Hell before I let either one of those men harm my family again."

Regina slowly rose until she stood, fear and dread gripping her gut. Without thought, she extended her hand, gripping tightly the moment she felt Emma's hand in hers. "Mother," voice wavering, her entire body trembled. "What'd you do?"

"Please," Cora balked, sneering at her daughter. "Not what you two are thinking. I'm Cora fucking Mills, for Christ's sake. I have other ways of dealing with my problems." She waved a dismissive hand. "I offered him money."

"Daddy?" Regina looked down at her father. "You knew about this, didn't you?"

"Cora's right about one thing, Arthur would have drug all our families through the mud for no other reason than his desire to win. I couldn't let him do that to my grandson."

"How much?" Emma asked.

Cora's lips curled into a smirk. "Five-hundred thousand."

"And he took it?" Emma creaked. Anger, white and hot, seared her insides. Neal had been shocked, even angry at Emma, but he'd instantly loved his son. She'd seen it in his eyes. Only, Emma hadn't looked deep enough. Even in prison, she would have rather died than live without Henry. For Neal apparently, fatherhood came with a completely different price tag.

"Two days later," Cora added, "Neal was dead. Not that it mattered, my problem was gone. Then, I heard you were reinvestigating his death. Thought it was murder. You've changed, Emma, but you haven't changed that much. If you thought Neal was murdered, you wouldn't stop until you found what you wanted. Which would have lead to me.."

"Shit," Emma grumbled, neck craning back in exasperation. "It leads to all of us. If Neal was planning to sue for custody, we're all suspects."

"Don't stop searching for suspects just yet, dearie, because it gets better." Cora circled around the desk, opening a drawer and pulling out a piece of paper. She extended her arm, handing it to Emma. "That's a notice from my bank, from the Cayman Islands. One month ago, someone cashed that check."

"So much for trying to get a warrant." Mind reeling, Emma went for the closest chair, slumping down. There'd been over a decade between them when they ran into each other on Main Street. Who knew what he'd been up to in that time? The same name that had been popping into her head over and over the last few months, popped up, once again. "I need to talk to August Booth."

"Yes," Regina spoke, "you do."

Except, Regina had a look in her eye, all that fear and dread replaced with a deep calculation. "Regina?"

"It's a long shot and it'll be Hell to prove, but," she lifted her gaze, lips curling, "I think I might know who killed Neal."

**

THREE MONTHS LATER

"We should be visiting your parents," Emma grumbled.

"I know."

"On a beach, drinking mimosas, watching our kid learn how to surf.."

"Emma," Regina sighed. "What's going on?"

Stronger together. Emma created the dots, Regina the one to find the line connecting them all together. A month of digging, searching, turned to planning and research. A plane trip to Bermuda, a day later they were back in the states. By way of forged documents courtesy of one of Emma's contacts from her days back in Boston working as a bailbonds person. Now, they were back in the states, sitting in a rental, the car parked across the street from a trailer park in..

Tallahassee, Florida, of all places.

"Emma.."

They'd been there since four am, eating breakfast burritos and drinking coffee. Emma already wound tight, had been since the address first popped up. When she saw the first picture sent by the private investigator they'd hired and Emma knew, she had to see for herself.

"Emma!"

The door to the trailer opened.

Neal Cassidy walked out. The last time Emma saw Neal Cassidy he was in a casket.

Now, here he was, in his board shorts and flip-flops, disheveled bedhead and untrimmed goatee, looking very much alive. He exited the trailer carrying two overstuffed garbage bags, on his way to the dumpster.

Emma jerked open the glove compartment, pulling out her handgun. With steady hands, she checked the clip, emptying the chamber before turning the safety off. Just like her father taught her. Driver's door quietly pushed open, Emma took one last parting glance towards her wife. "If I'm not back in thirty.."

"There's a second gun in that compartment," Regina forced a terse smile onto her lips. "And I know how to use it."

Leaning, Emma planted a quick peck onto Regina's lips. "I love you."

"Love you, too."

She was quick, hopping a fence and darting between the houses, just like she'd planned. Less than thirty seconds and she was in Neal's unit. The shades were thick, drawn tight, casting the entire space into darkness. The air smelled of bacon and pancakes, motor oil and shampoo. Clothes were strewn everywhere. A half-filled duffel bag on the couch, someone was planning to leave and leave soon.

No more time to look around, the door opened. Neal entered the trailer and Emma..

Slugged him dead square against the jaw.

"YOU SON OF A BITCH!!"

Neal recovered, just a little, just enough. Emma punched him again. "You son of a bitch!"

"Emma!" he shrieked, already on the ground, kicking his legs until his back was against a wall. Dazed, confused, bleeding, only to look up and see Emma with a gun pointing at his face. "What the fuck, Emma?"

"Seriously?" Emma growled. "You're supposed to be dead and you're asking *me* what the fuck? I saw your body. I went to your funeral, Neal! I chose you!" Fifteen years old and standing in the middle of a yard on the other side of the tracks, wanting nothing more than for time to move slower only to feel it reach out of her grasp. The whispers of 'Emma, come on', a tulip left on a windowsill, the moment when everything changed. "You ruined my life, Neal. All these years later," she tightened her grin, "and you're still doing it!"

"Okay, okay," with raised hands, he plead. With a sigh, Neal's shoulders sagged, hand coming up to run over his face. "It was the drugs."

"Drugs?” Emma blinked, mind reeling, trying to make something of the nonsense pouring out of Neal's mouth. “What drugs?"

"You remember the night August OD'd? I had all these big plans, take us to the city so we could make it. Instead, we were homeless, broke, practically starving and in walks August, with his friends, his pocket full of cash.." he paused, head shaking in disbelief, "and five keys of uncut coke. August had warned me, these guys were the type you don't fuck with. Here's me, seventeen years old, and stealing their dope. I thought he was dead, so I took the drugs."

"You never told me."

"I couldn't! After August, you were already freaked out. *I* was freaked out. I thought if we just made it to Portland, I could make everything better. I had no idea.. no idea. Word got out. Punk ass kid trying to sell a couple keys of coke. Word got out, it got around. And they found me."

It was all starting to click. After Boston, even after Emma had called and learned August had survived, Neal was still nervous, twitchy, always checking over his shoulder like someone was watching. "Did you mean to set me up?"

"I didn't mean to. But, the cops just showed up and I panicked. You were a juvenile and if they searched me?"

"I was pregnant, Neal!" She began to pace, stalking back and forth, tensely wriggling the gun in her hand.

He inhaled, craning his head back until it softly thumped against the wall. "I know. I knew."

She kicked his leg. "You fucking asshole!"

"C'mon, Emma. You were safer in prison than with me." He yanked up his legs, Emma rearing back to kick him again. "Where the hell do you think I've been all these years? Why do you think it took me so long to return to Storybrooke? I've been running, Emma. I didn't expect to run into you. I didn't expect to run into our son!"

Emma stopped, heat back in her eyes, gun at her side. It would be so easy, so easy. The simple pull of her finger and all her problems would be over. "That didn't stop you from trying to sue for custody!"

"What!?! No I wasn't!!” She jabbed the air with her gun, Neal's hands immediately shot back up. “Emma, I swear. I swear. I went back to Storybrooke to talk to Papa, 'cuz he's been helping me. He's the one who told me to go see Spencer. I get there and the dude goes nuts, talking about fucking over Cora and me getting back my kid. And I'm just like, dude, all I wanna do is talk shell accounts and overseas legal aid. I didn't come back to take Henry from you. I'd never do that to you, Emma. You gotta believe me."

Problem was, Emma did believe him. 

"Papa was the one who came up with the plan,” his eyes were distant, haunted. Ten years on the run, all Neal wanted was for it to be over. A moment of peace. “Getting Junior to help was easy. Spencer, Dr. Whale. Then, Cora shows up, drops a half mil in my lap. It all seemed perfect."

She would have ran had he asked. All those years she spent waiting for him to return, the boy with the hang-dog smile. "We had a funeral for you, Neal."

"I know."

Hands to her head to stop the pounding. He'd been her 'Tallahassee' once, he'd been her everything once. A love that was never easy, never painless. All these years later, it still hurt. "I chose you," she sighed, arms dropping slack to her sides, nothing left to give. "I loved you."

Neal scoffed, "No you didn't."

"Excuse me?" Emma gawked. "I think I know how I felt Neal."

"Yeah, I know how you felt." He dared to lift himself off the floor, brushing his backside and wiping his hands. "And you never loved me. Not like you loved her, Regina," he said her name with a finality. Like, even back then, their stories had already been written.

"Neal.."

"Emma, come on.” He grabbed a pack of cigarettes off the table. Discovering it was empty, tossed it onto the floor. “Even after we ran away, you were like a broken record. All 'Regina this' and 'Regina that'.."

"I was not!"

"You said her name.." he gaped at her, "while we were having sex. Repeatedly."

"Seriously?” Head shaking, palm pressed to her forehead. “Wow, how high was I?"

"Fuck, we all were,” he dared a chuckle. Reaching for another pack, he started peeling off the wrapper. “One helluva a bruise to the ego but..” he paused, sliding a cigarette between his lips, the memories coming back to them both, “at least I had you. I don't know, I guess that's why I chased after you so hard. I wanted you to look at me like you looked at her."

"Either way, enough of this trip down memory lane shit," she reached behind her back, pulling out a pair of cuffs. "I'm taking you back."

Hands raised, cigarette spitting out of his mouth, Neal stepped back. "Whoa! Did you not hear a word I said? About the guys who are trying to kill me?"

A dog with a bone, Emma wasn't letting go. "You can't keep running, Neal. Trust me on that one. Time for you to come home, start dealing with the consequences."

"Then, you're gonna have to get your gun back out.” Neal tensed. It wasn't the first time they'd fought. All these years, he'd fought and won against bigger foes than Emma Swan. “I ain't going back, Emma."

"Against me?” Emma balked. “You know I can kick your ass. Don't think I won't knock you the fu.."

"Papa?"

She was no more than four, a mop of tight dark and curly hair, light brown skin, with Neal's eyes and Henry's nose. Emma's eyes went wide, swallowing hard, watching the way Neal softened. That smile that had stolen her heart all those years ago and pointed at the little girl across the room.

"Hey, Tinkerbell."

She sniffled, rubbing at an eye with a loosely held fist, as her other hand raised a book. "You didn't finish reading me a story."

"I know, sweetheart. Papa's talking to a friend. Go back in your room. I'll be there in a couple minutes and we can finish your story."

They watched Tinkerbell. She eyed Emma, features similar to the child's grandfather, before turning and going back to the room. The moment the door closed..

Emma slugged Neal across the jaw.

"OW!" He snapped the cobwebs forming with a hard shake of his head. "Would you quit it!?!"

"You have a kid?” Worse, this just kept getting worse. “Another kid?"

"Well, it's not like I planned it. Either one of them. I was cleaning myself up, you know, going straight. I knew I couldn't go back to Storybrooke, not anymore. Then, I met her mother. She's waiting for us in Miami." He inhaled, face in his palms and rubbing hard. No time for the story about how Neal met a bounty hunter named Tamara. "I can't go back to Storybrooke," he exhaled. "I have a second chance. A second chance to do right by that little girl, her mother. I'm begging you, please, Emma."

What more could she say? Not the closure she'd been searching for, but still an ending. Emma folded her cuffs, tucking them back in her pocket. Heading for the door, she reached for the knob then paused, finding it within her to say something. "Just.. just let me know you're safe, okay?"

"I went back once, you know." He walked towards the door, leaned his elbow against the wall, knuckles to his cheekbone. That Neal Cassidy grin on his face. "Bout six years ago. Had it in my mind that I was gonna rescue you from the drudgery of Storybrooke, Maine."

Hand on the doorknob, Emma willed her fingers to still. "Why didn't you?"

"It was the night of that party, the one by the freight car. I saw you, for the first time in years, Emma Swan. You were dancing with Regina. And you had that look on your face, the one you have only just for her. That's when I knew. That's when I knew you'd found your 'Tallahassee'. My son had a home, a family that loved and looked after him. What kind of asshole would I be if I just walked in there and tore it all apart?"

All Emma could muster was the weakest of smiles. She leaned, gently pressing her lips to the cheek of the boy she'd once given up everything for. "Goodbye, Neal."

**

Regina was already out of the car, leaning against the door. Arms folded across her chest, jaw clenching like she was chewing glass. She watched the door to Neal's trailer open, some of the tension melting away at the sight of Emma exiting. Emma making her way back to the car, that distant and haunted look in her eyes. She walked, kept walking, didn't stop until her arms were wrapping around Regina's waist, forehead pressed into the curve of her neck. The two of them molding against each other in that way they always just fit.

"That bad, huh?" Regina whispered after an eternity of silence.

"I'll tell you later." Emma nodded into her neck, not quite ready to leave the security of Regina's arms. She was a fixer, a trait seemingly woven into her DNA. Discover something broken, fix it. Then came the problems that were holes. Emma unable to keep from falling in, clawing at walls with no idea which way was up. This hole had almost driven her crazy. This hole had almost cost her everything. "I'm just so fucking frustrated." She lifted her head. Still feeling those walls, clawing through the dirt dumped on her head. A chuckle, a shake of her head. "I just wanna forget. Get drunk. Go to a cheap, sleazy motel. Get fucked through a mattress."

"Tempting," a gentle smile, watching her fingers drift over the tense brow. Each of them carrying the weight of the world on the shoulders in different ways. The times when they were apart, shoulders too weak to keep that weight from crushing. Somehow, someway, they always found their way back to each other, stronger together, lifting that weight like it was effortless. "I have a better idea," she leaned up, gentle peck to the tip of Emma's nose, "let's go home. Our son is waiting for us."

Like seeing the sun for the first time, the smile lit up Emma's face. "You always did know how to make me feel better."

"Still do."

A tilt of the head, a coy and sheepish grin. "Tell me you love me?"

"Anytime." A smile, the one only for Emma. With eyes already gazing at her lips, Regina leaned, "I love you, Emma."

The kiss soft and sweet, over before it had even begun. The two stood, doing nothing more than holding each other, forehead to forehead. Eventually finding it within them to part, separating to get back into the car. Regina took a parting glance towards the trailer part. Neal stood in his opened door, a child in his arms. Eyes locking, they shared a nod. Of all of them, Regina and Neal had never been friends, just two kids in love with the same girl. All these years later, fate still threading them together as another chapter finally came to a close.

**

"Holy shit!"

"MOUTH!!" Emma snapped, the apple not falling far from the tree.

A bench on the pier, Henry sandwiched between his mothers. Emma had always pledged to never lie to Henry. He sat and listened as Emma laid it all out, starting the year before Henry had been born. Surprisingly, the kid was taking it well.

"Sorry, Ma," he stared with eyes still filled with disbelief. "But, my birth father sounds like kind of a dick."

"Henry!" Eyes darting to Regina for support. Who could only manage a shrug because she'd never disagree with the sentiment.

Emma didn't owe Neal anything. She'd faced the consequences of her decisions. But, in her heart, she knew – had the situation been reversed, Neal would have defended Emma. "In his own way, Neal thought he was protecting me, protecting you."

"I guess." Hands buried deeper into his jacket, not quite able to wrap his head around it all. "Would you have done it? Taken us and left with him?"

Emma inhaled, slumping a shoulder against the seat. "In the beginning, the first few years after you were born? Yeah, I would have." Unable to stop from reaching, she brushed her fingertips into his hair, a bit flummoxed at his increasing use of product. "After I returned to Storybrooke? After I met your Mother?" Eyes lifting with that smile she only had for Regina, seeing warm eyes gazing back, returning with a smile made just for Emma. "Wild horses couldn't have taken me away."

"Thank God," Henry huffed. "I don't ever want to be that big an idiot."

"Henry," Regina reached, cupping his chin and pulling his face towards hers. "What Neal did, those were his decisions, his choices. They have nothing to do with you or who you are."

"I know.” Henry had asked about his father once, back when he was seven. Emma and Regina sat him down in that way parents do when the topic was serious, told Henry the truth. It hurt but more like a scrape instead of a cut, a lingering pain, but one easily forgotten. “But, it still doesn't seem right."

"What do you mean?" Emma asked.

Brows scrunching, Henry pursed his lips. Emma felt a tiny stab in her heart at the way Henry's shoulders shifted, a weight being pressed down on him. "My sister," he finally said. "It doesn't seem fair, you know. I just.. will I ever get to meet her?"

"I hope so, kid." Emma could only try and smile. Lips to his temple, she whispered, "I hope so."

Henry visibly stiffened. Back straightening, his entire body tensed, enough for Emma and Regina to notice. Their eyes followed Henry’s gaze, ending on the pair walking towards them on the pier.

Jefferson, arm casually draped over his daughter Grace's shoulder, he nodded as they walked past. "Sheriff. Madame Mayor."

Grace gently waved. "Hi, Henry."

And Emma and Regina shared a knowing look as Henry's face turned about fifteen shades of red. "Hi, Grace."

“Glad to see he’s getting out,” Regina turned to Emma, the tiniest glimmer of a calculating twinkle in her eye. “We should invite him and his daughter over for dinner.”

The blush on Henry’s cheeks faded, along with the rest of the color. “We should?”

“Of course," Regina kept her tone a clueless casual. "Jefferson and I used to be friends back in the day. At one point, we were even engaged. I know he’s been through some tough times, Grace as well. It would be good to reconnect. Show a little bit of that old Storybrooke neighborly love.”

“Seriously!?!” Henry perked, face all hopeful and puppydog earnest. “Can I ask them?”

Regina beamed. “Sure.”

Henry bolted, tearing down the pier.

Emma could only shake her head. “Did that just happen?”

“I think it did,” Regina turned to Emma, stunned expression on her face. “Our son has a crush.”

“Please tell me I wasn’t that bad at his age?”

“I can say with full authority,” Regina chuckled. Thinking back to that age wasn't hard. Emma definitely went out of her way to make an impression. “Twelve year old Emma Swan might have had just teensy bit more game.”

“Damn right, I did. My milkshake brought this girl to the yard.” A healthy grin, they each chuckled in their own way; two idiots in love, thinking about all the different signs that had been there since the beginning. Reaching across the space once occupied by Henry, Emma clasped her hand around Regina’s, giving a gentle shake. “We did good, didn’t we?”

“Yeah," that warm smile lit up Regina's face, "we did.”

Eyes darting to the thumb grazing over Regina’s knuckles, her thoughts going back to that day she made a phonecall, and the one person who ever really mattered answered. “He’s your son, Regina.”

"I know, Emma."

"He's always been your son. The moment he was born and I saw you holding him in your arms." A shy tilt of her head, peering up through the strands of hair falling over her face. "It's why I named him after you father."

"No, you didn't,” a slight tilt of the head, brows pinching, “I was there, Emma. You named him after fucking Henry Rollins."

Emma shrugged. "I lied. Which shouldn't be too surprising coming from a convicted felon.." She joked, trying to cut the tension. Only to feel Regina's hand giving hers a sympathetic squeeze. "It's just.. I knew you were always going to be a part of his life. Even if you weren't always there, I wanted there to always be a part of Henry that was a piece of you."

Which was enough to have Regina crossing the empty space between them, not stopping until their lips were pressed together. Lips parting, their foreheads gently pressed together, the rest of the world slowly dissolving away into nothingness. "I have a suggestion," her voice a low purr, watching Emma's lips curve into a knowing smile. "Maybe go back home, make love until neither of us can move. Tell Henry to stay with his grandparents of choice for the evening, maybe even the weekend. It's been awhile since we busted out the collar and crop."

"Mmmm," Emma's eyes fluttered closed, a long and hard breath sucked in through her nose. Insides ripping open the reserve well of strength. "We can't."

"Excuse me?"

With everything she had left in her, Emma rose from the bench. "I have to go back to work. And so do you."

Dark eyes playfully narrowed, Regina knew her wife too well. "What are you up to, Swan?"

"Nothing. Just trying to finish that mountain of paperwork that's always waiting for me. Trying to get you to your office.." Emma paused, face scrunching. That piece of her mother, the one that couldn't keep a secret. "Because there might be a gift waiting for you.. for our date tonight," Emma sighed, ran a hand over her head. "It was supposed to be a surprise."

"Don't worry," rising, Regina stood close, hand fixing the lapel of Emma's jacket. "I'm quite good at faking it."

"Oh, you are, are you?" Emma playfully narrowed her eyes. "I guess we'll just have to see about that, won't we?"

"Yes, I guess we will." Her eyes seduction and challenge, Regina pulled away, hands tucking into her coat pocket as she began walking down the pier. "See you tonight, Sheriff Swan."

**

Regina stood before the mirror, carefully applying her lipstick. As told, there'd been a gift waiting for her at the Mayor's Office. A dress, slinky, black and backless, the hem ending mid-thigh, a dress for Regina that was so, so Emma. A dress Regina could only refer to as 'elegantly slutty'.

'6pm Be ready - E' was all the note had said.

It was five-fifty, Regina's stomach a tight ball of nervous energy. The slightest of trembles in her fingers as she dabbed at her lips. Just a date, just a date. But, they'd never really dated before. And this was a new beginning, for their entire family. A new weight on her shoulders, all their shoulders, the pressure to get it right this time around. Regina wanted to get it right. To build something stronger and taller than the past constantly looming over them. A past that could and had torn them apart.

Tap.

Ears pricking, Regina paused, questioning her ears.

Tap. Tap.

The window. Regina turned, actually saw the rock as it bounced off the glass. Smile forming on her lips, she walked over, hands sliding up the window pane. Regina glanced outside, her smile widening.

Emma Swan stood in the middle of their front yard, in a tailored black suit with red trim, a dozen tulips in her hand, a yellow and rust colored Camaro sputtering blue-white smoke at the end of the driveway.

Forearms to the window sill, Regina leaned down. "What are you doing?"

"Regina Mills," Emma said with a face lit like the sun, "will you go to Prom with me?"

"I don't know. Who'd you pay off?"

Emma stepped closer, face illuminated by the porch light. "I'm not leaving this time," her voice a little lower, a little weighted and serious, "not ever."

Was all Regina needed to hear, and she was hustling down the stairs, that awkward and lonely teenaged girl running towards her Romeo.

No words as Emma drove, fingers threaded together, occasionally kissing Regina's knuckles. The sun had already set by the time they reached the quarry. Regina could only gasp at the thousands upon thousands of lights strung up and around the rocks. The cloth covered table by the water's edge, plates already set, a chilling bottle of wine. Dinner was shared over a comfortable silence. The night air warm, the soundtrack for the evening provided by the 8-track tape stuck in the Camaro, Christine McVie singing about making lovin' fun.

"I can't believe you did this," Regina said after a comfortable eternity of silence.

"Always for you," Emma smiled, reaching for the bottle of wine to top off Regina's glass.

“Do I even want to know where you got that car?”

“Nope. It's ours now,” she paused off the rise of Regina's eyebrow. “Considering how many times I stole it? Or all the times we made out in the backseat? It broke my heart seeing it sitting in a junkyard.”

“Please don't tell me you stole it? Again?”

Emma could only bow her head. They'd been separated, Emma growing more and more restless. Seeing a huge part of her past rusting away in a junkyard was more than she could take. No matter how old she got, inside her was still that restless and impulsive kid. She lifted her head. “I love you, Regina Mills.”

“Don't think you're wriggling your way out of this one.”

“Are you sure?” As that warm and loving smile turned playfully coy, Emma rose from her seat. Regina watching, eyebrow rising, as Emma began to undress.

Too busy enjoying the show, Regina waited until the slacks dropped before opening her mouth, "What are you doing?"

"Exactly what you think." Fingers sliding into the waistband of her panties, Emma bent forward and slid them off. "And so are you."

Heart already beginning to pound with a nervous energy, Regina slowly shook her head. "I don't think so."

"I know you've never skinny dipped before," Emma extended her hand, wiggling her fingers, "c'mon, don't you trust me?"

Because Emma Swan always knew exactly what to say. The swan that taught a caged bird how to fly. Regina rose, taking Emma's offered hand. Her touch sweet and gentle, helping Regina undress. The water warm, Regina dared to slip under the surface, the nervous anxiety dissolving away. Emma at her side, they swam, gently and slowly. Until fingers thread together, until there were arms sliding over shoulders, hands sliding around a waist, lips pressing together. A thigh between parting legs, the languid rolling of hips, the rising heat between them and drawing them out of the water, as the two ran, giggling like teenagers, towards the parked car.

Giggling like the teenagers they used to be, a folded out backseat and fogging windows. The air turned moist and warm. The two on their sides, Emma's chest to Regina's back, Regina reached behind her, hand behind Emma’s head and pulling Emma's lips to hers. She kissed through the moans caused by Emma's softly plunging fingers. Emma didn’t stop, Emma never would. She’d found her Tallahasssee. And now, Emma had no intention of letting go.

As evening turned to night, they didn’t stop. Between the cuddling and the kissing, the laughter and lazy sighs of contentment, there was a hunger between them. The hunger of two teenaged girls grown into adult women, women with wants and desires. Appetites. The kinks and festishes they’d discovered over the years, the ones discovered when they were both together and apart. Too much time apart, a need to pick up the pieces where they'd been left off.

The backseat of a car, enough room to roll Emma on her stomach, the leather squeaking as she spread open her thighs, lifting her hips. Never one to so eagerly submit than when she was with Regina. Emma arching, a pained and heated whimper from the hand fisting the back of her head. Already so damn close, her entire body trembling in anticipation, hips lasciviously rolling into the fingertips expertly teasing her ass.

"Fuck, Regina," Emma grit. Desperately trying to keep the fireworks from going off too early, a match set to a fuse not miles in length but only a few inches. When Regina brought her lips to the shell of Emma's ear, if only the town knew how dirty their Mayor liked to talk when only Emma could hear.

"Emma.."

"I know," Emma groaned, eyes screwed so tight she was already seeing stars. "Don't stop."

"Emma!"

Except, Regina had stopped. Emma's eyes snapped open from the draft of air she could feel on her back, Regina backing against the door, snatching at their clothes, the blue and red flashing lights getting brighter and brighter.

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me!" Emma gaped at the approaching police car. The quarry wasn't in the town limits, and Emma had pulled a LOT of strings to make sure she and Regina wouldn't be disturbed.

The car rolled to a stop ten feet from the back bumper, the windows still too damp and fogged to see clearly.

Storybrooke's newest resident, first day on the job and probably about to be fired, Deputy Mulan Fa exited the squad car. She approached the already lowering window.

"Mulan?" Emma gaped, still pulling on her shirt. "What the actual fuck?"

Mulan bent at the waist, trying desperately to maintain eye contact and nothing but eye contact. "Sorry, Sheriff.. Madame Mayor. I know you asked not to be disturbed but your cell phone is set to voice mail and it's an emergency," she paused, swallowing, "Arthur Spencer's been shot."

Regina leaned into Emma. "Which one?"

Mulan's eyes widened, followed by a hard swallow. "There's two of them?"

"Mulan!" Emma barked.

"I don't know," the Deputy shrugged, starting to regret her decision to use a map and a thrown dart as a means of choosing her employment. "The old one?"

"Arthur." Turning to Regina, Emma gave a half-hearted chuckle, "At least we have an alibi this time. More importantly, your Mom's still in Puerto Rico."

"No, she's not," Regina groaned, hand running through her hair. "Zelena picked her up from the airport earlier this afternoon."

Now, Emma had a suspect, the mother of her wife. As the cliff next year's re-election hovered over just got a little stiffer. "Thanks, Mulan. Give us a couple minutes and we'll be right behind you." Emma waited until her new Deputy began walking away, before burying her face in her hands, letting out a muffled groan. "This can't be happening. This can not be happening."

"I'm sorry," Regina sighed, fingertips gently threading into Emma's hair, rubbing against the scalp. "Hopefully, you won't have to go as far to figure this one out."

"We.." Head lifting, Emma turned, hand clasping around Regina's so she could kiss the knuckles. "I couldn't have solved Neal's case without you. I.." she blinked away the sudden moistness in her eyes, "I'm not me without you."

"Emma," a soft sigh before lips were against lips. A kiss for the girl who'd stolen Regina's heart. The piece of Emma she'd kept inside her, no matter how far or long they drifted apart. An inevitability. Now, again, they'd found their way back to this. Together.

Regina shifted, climbing to straddle Emma's lap, arms draping over her shoulders, fingers tangling in her hair.

Lips parting, all Emma could do was chuckle, "What was that for?"

“Tonight.” A light peck to the tip of Emma's nose. “Tomorrow.” Another peck to the corner of her lips. “All the days and nights after. Home is where you go when you fall and there's someone to catch you.” A kiss to the other side of Emma's lips, before her arms were tightening around Emma's shoulders, lips brushing the shell of an ear. “You're not falling anymore.”

Emma pulled Regina tighter into her, heart rabbiting in her chest. Regina always knew what to say. 

“C'mon,” Regina planted another kiss to Emma's temple before sliding off her lap. “You've got a criminal to find. And we need to get dressed before your new Deputy comes back and arrests us.”

**

A not so lazy Saturday in Storybrooke. Every adult with a child, and most of the childless adults, were spilling out of and crowded around Granny's for a special day in Storybrooke. Regina and Henry stood in line with everyone else, Henry bouncing on his heels, holding his bag of comics to be autographed. A famous Hollywood actor was in town, signing autographs for the locals. All the children knew him only as the comic book hero on the big screen. The adults knew him as Samuel, the all-star running back who turned football into an acting career.

Regina and Henry finally made their way to the front of the line. Samuel, sitting at a table sandwiched between his assistant and his agent, lifted his head, smile lighting up his entire face. “Regina Mills.”

Regina returned his smile, calling him by the name all the kids in school called him, “Hi, Lancelot.”

He jerked up from his seat, circling the table to give Regina a warm hug. “It's so good to see you. How long has it been?”

“Too long,” Regina chuckled, stepping back just enough to put her hand on Henry's shoulder. “This is my son, Henry.”

Lancelot turned his eyes to a wide-eyed and stunned to silence Henry, who squeaked then swallowed. “Pleasure to meet you, Henry.”

“You..” Henry stammered, voice cracking, “know each other?”

“Are you kidding?” Lancelot grinned, the one that had all the girls swooning back in high school. “Everyone knew Regina Mills, prettiest girl in school.”

Even Henry noticed the way the tips of Regina's ears turned pink, goofy grin smiling as she tucked a lock of hair behind an ear.

“Who was the prettiest girl in school?” Emma had wormed her way through the crowd, arm sliding around Regina's waist as she gave a quick peck to Regina's cheek.

Lancelot folding his arms across his chest, unable to help the chuckle from bubbling up. “Swan.”

“Lancelot.”

He tilted his head slightly, eyes narrowing as he lazily wagged a finger. “Are you two..”

“Married?” Regina finished.

“YES!” Emma blurted.

“Seriously?” Lancelot set his eyes on Regina. “You slowed down enough so she could finally catch you?”

“That's..” Regina made a passing glance at her wife, who was busy peacocking, hands on her hips to display the badge and gun. “An interesting perspective.”

“You know she threatened to run me over with her Dad's truck if I asked you to Prom, right?”

Mortified, Henry gaped at Emma. “You did?”

“What?” All these years later, Emma felt the tiniest bit of guilt, maybe a sliver of embarrassment. For one year, there were two boys all the girls had a crush on, Neal or Lancelot. Regina couldn't stand Neal and Emma had a jealous streak a mile long when it came to Lancelot. The shy, pudgy kid, who always had a smile and a joke. Who, the summer before his sophomore year, his father woke him up every morning at 5am, slowly driving around Storybrooke with Lancelot running behind the car. The birth of a high school heartthrob. “We were kids, okay!”

Regina shook her head, wondering whether now was the time to question her life choices. “How long are you in town?”

“Just for the day,” he shrugged. “Hosting Saturday Night Live next week, rehearsals start Monday.” Then, his eyes brightened, that grin back on his face. “Want tickets?”

“YES!” Henry blurted.

“Umm..” Regina made a darting glance towards her wife, who's teenaged resentment for the only boy who could steal her thunder had continued into adulthood. “I think we can make a weekend down to New York. What do you say, Henry?”

So excited, he was trembling. “YES!”

“Here.” He handed Regina a business card. “This is my assistant. Give him a ring and he'll set you guys up.” Then, he pulled Regina in for another hug. “It's good to see you again. Don't forget to tell your parents I said 'hi'. I still owe your Mom for that favor.”

**

Henry bolted the moment they exited Granny's, wanting to share his excitement with his friends, show off in front of the ones that weren't.

Emma and Regina continued to walk down Main Street.

“It's good to see you again,” Emma muttered under her breath, nudging Regina with a shoulder. “I can't believe you were flirting with him.”

“I wasn't flirting with him,” Regina laughed. “Despite how adorably jealous you get. Besides,” she nudged Emma back, hand sliding into the crook of Emma's elbow. “We dated in college.”

“Wait? WHAT!?!” Emma stopped dead in her tracks, pulling Regina with her. “When? I thought it was just you and Daniel?”

“Wow. Incredibly, adorably jealous,” Regina could only shake her head. With a soft pull, she eased the two of them back into walking forward. “Daniel and I were on a break. Sam (“Sam?” Emma mouthed.) was in New York shooting a movie. When the movie ended, he went back to LA and I went back to school. End of story.”

“I don't know. I saw your face back there. It was more than a summer fling, wasn't it?”

That smile back on Regina's face, pleasant memories from the past, Emma feeling the jealousy trickle down her spine. “Lancelot was the first guy I dated that both my parents liked from the beginning.”

“Ouch!” Emma playfully winced.

“Mother was over the moon. Even Daddy asked me once how serious it was.”

It made no sense, the tightening in her gut, the hand in her pocket curling into a fist. They were married. Had been for five years. If this were a competition, Emma won, she got the girl. Yet, here she was, jealousy coursing through her veins. Jealous of Regina's past, a past in which Regina was happy. A past that didn't involve Emma. How the simplest twist of fate could have changed everything. “Huh,” she mumbled. “Figured there was a bit more to this story.”

“Huh,” calculating smile stretching her lips, Regina leaned into Emma, lips to her ear, “kinda like Prom Night.”

“Regina,” Emma groaned.

“I'm kidding.. I'm kidding. Sort of.” Regina slowed the two of them to a halt, turning so she could face Emma. Who noticed the sudden tremble in Regina's fingers as she tucked a lock of hair behind an ear. “Can I ask you a question?”

“Yes,” Emma quickly blurted. “Whatever it is? My answer is yes.”

“Emma..”

“I'm serious, Regina.”

Pursing, lower lip loosely chewed between her teeth. “Do you want to have more kids? Zelena and I were talking, she's moving to Storybrooke to become a foster parent and I..”

“Yes.”

“What?”

“Regina..” Emma stepped closer, hands lifting to brush the hair back from Regina's face, fingers clasping her cheeks. “You want more kids. Then, I want more kids. I couldn't think of anything more perfect than opening up our home, adding to our family.”

“We should probably talk to Henry..”

“Who will agree because he loves you as much as I do. And will probably beg to have enough brothers and sisters to field his own baseball team. Yes, Regina, let's do it.” Emma pulled Regina in tightly, melting at the way Regina's arms slid around Emma's waist, the feel of her head against Emma's shoulder. The way they just fit. “Hey, how long have you been waiting to ask me this?”

“I don't know,” Regina muffled into Emma's shoulder. “A while.”

“Regina?”

Pulling back, Regina lifted her head to meet Emma's eyes. “We were separated. We've only been back together for a couple months. My parents moved to Puerto Rico. Arthur's been shot. Elections are next year..”

Silenced with a kiss, tender and gentle. Emma parting only because she'd thought of the unanswered question still lingering in the air between them. The slight stabbing pain in her heart. Forehead pressed to Regina's temple, she gently whispered, “You're still scared I'll leave again, aren't you?”

“Emma..” An inevitability. A new beginning. But, Emma had run so many times before. As sweet as it could be, as loving as it could be, there was that ache, that unhealed hurt. The thought their love could never be enough. Life would be so much better if the doubts and insecurities made scheduled appointments she could efficiently manage, instead of standing on Main Street, trembling in Emma's arms. Knowing they're going to make it work, still weighted by the doubt they can't.

“Okay,” a soft kiss to her temple, arms holding a little tighter. All the times Regina fell, Emma never the one to catch her. Emma would be the strong one, now. Her family needed her to. “How 'bout this?” another kiss, just at the edge of Regina's brow. “We call Archie, schedule a session for just the two of us. I love you, Regina Mills. What ever you need from me, I'll do it. Okay?” Regina nodded into her shoulder, Emma smiling. “Anything to keep you from flirting with Lancelot again.”

A laugh. “I wasn't flirting.”

“Or me from actually running him over with my car. Or, you know, paying him to dump you.”

“You're such an idiot.”

“I am,” Emma chuckled, eyes lazily sliding closed, like she could spend all day doing nothing but this, standing on Main Street holding her wife. “I can't believe everyone saw it but me.”

“We were kids, Emma. Kids are stubborn. *We* were stubborn.”

“Yeah,” Emma shrugged. Then pulled back, hands cupping Regina's face. “Lancelot was right about one thing. You were the prettiest girl in school. Who's now the prettiest woman in Storybrooke.”

Regina grinned, “Look who's flirting now.”

“Damn straight! Now, come on.” Emma pulled them apart, grabbing Regina's hand to edge them back into motion. “I have to go to the hospital. Let Arthur yell at me some more. And I'm sure you have some researching to do, or for me to read. So we can start filling our house with babies.”

Regina held still, arm extending as Emma kept walking. Regina giving a tug, soft smile as she regained Emma's attention. “Aren't you forgetting something?”

“What?”

“Kiss me.” A slow blink of the eyes, warm and twinkling, loving. “Make it all better.”

That smile on Emma's face, the one only for Regina. Fifteen years old, standing on the Mayor's front yard, staring up at the top right window. “Yes, ma'am.”

Reeling herself back in, hands to Regina's face, eyes on each others lips as they leaned into each other.

The long, blaring honk of a horn, the two lifted their heads just enough to see the ambulance driving by, Junior at the wheel, shouting out the open window, “GET A ROOM!” he cackled maniacally.

“How many black eyes did you give him?” Regina smirked.

“Apparently, not enough,” Emma growled through her teeth. “I think I have it in me for one more.”

“When you're done kissing me, right?”

Like a needle scratching across a record, Emma was back on track. “Absolutely.”

Slowly, a light peck over an eye, the bridge of Regina's nose, one cheek, then the other before it was lips against lips. A gently heated moan, the flick of a tongue. Right there on Main Street. There were still rough edges to sand off. The pieces that didn't quite fit, from the doubts and insecurities hovering in the shadows, ready to pounce. Two kids from opposite sides of the world, over time, erasing the line after line intended to separate them. Slowly finding each other, falling back in love.

Even if everyone saw it before they did.

“You keep doing that..” Regina panted softly.

“I might have to arrest us for unlawful carnal knowledge,” Emma breathed into the parted lips, “and indecent exposure.”

“How 'bout we take this someplace more private,” she said, with hands sliding up shoulders, fingernails scraping the back of Emma's neck. “Let's go home.”

“Yeah,” another kiss, light and quick, “let's go home.”

END


End file.
